The Source Of Nightmares
by Ellentasia
Summary: Rebecca Nils has spent the past six months drifting from one doctor to the next. In England, she finds herself kidnapped, confused, and caught up in a magical war she hadn't known existed. She has a power that could turn the tides. But in which way?
1. Chapter 1: Exposition of the Blondes

Chapter 1: Exposition of the Blondes

Rebecca

"At this time we would ask all passengers to please turn off all cell phones, pagers, and any other transmitting devices."

"That means you." I told my best friend without looking up from the book I was reading.

"Just one more text!" She protested, typing as fast as her thumbs would go. There was a triumphant plinking noise as her sidekick sent out the text off to into the airwaves. She spun the screen down into its closed position covering the keyboard and then switched off the phone. "There."

"How's Tay-tay?" I asked with a smirk as I closed my book and slid it under my seat. The plane was about ready for take-off, my favorite part (aside from landing) of any plane ride.

Nikki shot me a menacing glare and then sighed. "_Taylor_ is horribly, horribly depressing. I swear sometimes that boy is PMS'ing. And I think he likes me."

I laughed. "I wonder why. You only send him about a hundred texts a day."

"Please. It's at least two hundred."

"Oh, my apologies." I feigned a sad look.

"That's quite alright." Nikki gave me a condescending nod, showing how she had deigned to forgive me my transgression. I grinned. "But really, I think he likes me. And he's getting annoying." She pouted and I laughed.

It was easy to see how a boy would fall for Nikki without her really trying. She was a happy, bubbly people-person. She had a presence that just invited people to come to her and unless you were talking to her in the morning, she always had an excited air about her that made you feel like you were the only person she wanted to talk to at that particular moment. And if her personality and poise wasn't enough she had been blessed with a talent for fashion, keeping her impossibly bright blonde hair in a beautifully flared close-cut and brandishing all the newest styles on her tall California-tanned body.

Not that she was always nice and understanding. Quite the contrary. You never messed with Nicolette Marie Peggan and came out unscathed. Sometimes I wondered if certain ex-boyfriends had actually been institutionalized for post-traumatic stress. I figured Taylor was going to meet with the harsh I-couldn't-care-less side of her soon enough. He was getting clingy, and she was getting bored. She'd drop him soon enough and he wouldn't know what double-decker bus had hit him.

"Are we going to have a Ben again?" I asked, smiling.

She laughed. "Probably."

Ben had been her friend for a month or so. Then she had gotten bored of him and decided one day to cut off all communication with him. It was kind of sad. Ben had gotten over it quickly though and I at least was still friends with him.

"Please be sure your seats are in the upright position and your tray tables are up." The stewardess called over the intercom. I needlessly rechecked my seatbelt because I felt like the intercom message deserved some sort of response.

The plane vibrated slightly as the engines started up. The hulking metal mass of modern-engineering began to move down the runway. Normally I would have been more excited, but this was our third take off in the last twelve hours. It would be the last one for a while, which was bitter-sweet for me.

Not that I was disappointed our very long travels would be over, just that we were a step closer to our destination. I was always full of an anxious mix of dread and half-formed hope on the way to meet a new doctor. And besides, this plane ride was going to be over ocean. The view from the window would get really boring, really fast.

Nikki and I raised our hands as the plane picked up speed, pretending we were on a roller coaster. The passengers around us either gave us odd looks or laughed and joined in. My brother had gotten seated somewhere out of my field of vision, but I assumed he was doing the same thing. He was cool like that. We cheered as the plane lifted from the ground and soared away. We laughed and waited for the attendants to announce that we could pick from the many available movies. There was a nifty touch-screen installed in the back of the headrest in front of me.

I watched the east coast of the United States speeding away behind us and then shut the window-cover, feeling a slight pang of homesickness. I shoved it away quickly. This was an incredible opportunity. I had the chance to go to England, with my best friend no less. My stomach clenched and my hand balled into a fist at the sudden pain. It was the only outward sign of the pain I gave. It had been six long months of pain and sickness, and I was well acquainted to my body's reminders of its condition. Usually it was just a constant dull pain that I could ignore, but every four hours or so it would jab me with some sort of metaphorical sickly knife. I silently told it to shut up. Regardless of _why_ I was going, it was still going to be fun. Some stupid unknown disease was not going to ruin it for me.

I opened up the movie menu and gave a wry smile. I nudged Nikki and pointed to the screen, "Should brush up on our English history. Wives of Henry the Eighth or Queen Elizabeth?"

She laughed. "Like you need that, Miss I got a four on the AP European History exam."

I shrugged. "A four isn't a five. Clearly I was missing something." I grinned and decided to go with Queen Elizabeth. It would probably be overdramatized and full of fallacies, but what was history for if not to be retold in fallacitical ways? With my newly coined word in mind I slipped the earphones over my ears and settled back in my seat.

Nicolette

I snuck glances at Becky to see how she was doing. Her gastro-intestinal (wasn't that just an awful word?) doctor had recommended she see this obscure person in Europe about her illness. He had already had her do every test in the book and with every one coming up negative he couldn't do much besides pass her on to another expert. He was apparently friends with this English expert, a Doctor James Ontari, and contacted him. The doctor had offered to pay for her transportation to see him and got passage for three people.

Becky's parents couldn't come because they couldn't afford to take the time off of work, no matter how much they wanted to. Personally I think Becky had some say in this, because I know they would have dropped everything to help her. Being the loving parents they were, Mr. and Mrs. Nils hadn't wanted to send their youngest child to the other hemisphere by herself. Adam had worked up enough vacation time at his job in Virginia to be able to go, so he had offered.

Her other brother (the middle child), Victor, was supposed to go as well so she wouldn't be making the flight from California to Virginia alone but a spot in the college of his dreams had opened up and it was a "grab it now or lose it" sort of thing, so Becky suggested that Victor go to school and that I take the extra ticket.

There had been a lot of negotiations to go through to allow my parents to let me go, but Adam was a responsible adult and Becky wouldn't let me get into too much trouble. In my best friend's time of need it was only right for me to be there to support her.

So here we were, the Terrific Trio: Rebecca, Nicolette, and Adam; heading to unknown lands to fight evil.

Becky and I had both agreed that we needed a better team name, but that would do until we were actually sitting with Adam and could effectively collaborate.

I saw Becky's hand clench and heard the sharp intake of breath. Most people would not have noticed this, since except for her frown Becky looked like her normal self, but I was not most people. I had known Becky as long as I had been alive and she was like my adopted sister. I was more practiced than most people in noticing her discomforts.

She wasn't particularly tall, a contrast to her behemoth brothers. She had always been slim, and some days I would stare enviously at her thin but curved figure. Despite her unfair skinny-ness, she was nicely muscled, a result of growing up with two tough older brothers. Becky was strong and that was probably the only reason she wasn't completely bedridden by this point. She had beautiful blonde hair that, when not in the French braid her mom had put it in before they left, reached far below her shoulder blades. Besides her figure (which was becoming less a point of envy for me so much as a concern, sickness had made her even thinner and her translucent skin even paler), Becky's eyes were something I wish I had. They were a pretty grey-blue, the shade shifting depending on the lighting and her clothes. I had boring brown eyes, like the color of dirt. It was lame. I liked to think I lived the life of a blue-eyed blonde vicariously through my friend, and I loved watching her take her contacts out.

Aside from Becky's stomach problems she had something called Irlen Syndrome. All the kids in her family have it. I didn't understand it really well but it had something to do with light and the nerves in her eyes being timed wrong or something. In any case she needed a specific color over her eyes to line up the nerve times correctly and used blue paper. Her contacts were specially colored and they made her eyes slightly darker. When she took them out her eyes suddenly shone with this incredible light blue. I'm more than a little jealous in these moments.

This particular jolt of pain apparently faded because she opened up the menu like any normal person. I chose not to mention it. She generally preferred that anyhow. Becky was incredibly excited about going to England, and so was I. No need to damper that excitement by reminding her about their visit to yet another doctor.

I turned my attention to my own screen and picked some romantic comedy. Several hours later, and several "Why the heck is this stupid continent so far away!?"'s we landed in England.

We collected Adam and our baggage and took the subway to our hotel. By this point I was exhausted and Becky was way too excited to be on the "London Underground." She told me I hadn't read enough English literature to be properly exuberant and so she would be doubly excited for me.

She can be so silly sometimes.

There was a bit of a walk from the subway station to our hotel, so Becky and I walked behind Adam. His bulk cleared a path in front of us. He was only a few inches over six feet, but his broad shoulders and brawny body gave him the illusion of being so much bigger. I was kind of scared of him when I was little but now I think he's fantabulous. He's a sweet guy, and while the long blonde hair and red beard make him look very rough-and-tumble he'd never hurt anyone if he could help it. I suppose the dark sunglasses don't help with the image, but Adam can discuss tractors and football just as easily as he can compare the various film versions of 'Pride and Prejudice'. And you would not believe how crazy he can dance, like this guy is like the king of the dance floor.

And he's got freakin' blue eyes too. That family's too lucky with their genes.

"You two stay with the bags, I'll go and check in." Becky and I flopped on the couches in the entry way. Becky's hair was starting to pull from the braid, the shorter pieces making a stringy halo around her face. She had closed her eyes. She had unconsciously slipped one hand under her several layers of clothes (We had stepped off the plane only to have our delicate Californian sensibilities assaulted by the English November) to lay on her stomach. She did this a lot.

"Hey Becky!" I called. She didn't respond, apparently lost on some foreign train of thought. "Becky? Rebecca Lynne Nils!"

She jumped at the use of her full name and glanced up at me. "Yes?"

"Becky, you look like you're trying to feel someone kicking." This startled a laugh out of her and I grinned.

She sobered pretty quickly though. "It helps. Sort of. I think putting my hand where it hurts helps ease the pain so it does." She shrugged. "Like the sugar pill thing."

"Do sugar pills help?"

Becky smiled sadly. "I wish."

"Dang. Hey Adam. Did you get our penthouse suite?" Adam had walked up while we were talking.

"Even better. I got mints."

My eyes got really wide and I leapt up from my seat. "Oh my gosh! I want one!"

Adam laughed and tossed me and Becky each a mint and then handed us our key-cards. He then picked up most of the bags. I took most of the rest and we left Becky with her own backpack and Adam's laptop case. She must have been really tired because she didn't protest her lack of baggage.

The clerk at the desk watched us enter the elevator. He was staring intently at Becky. He was pretty cute, as far as hotel clerks went. I nudged my friend and whispered in her ear. "Somebody likes you."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"No really. In his head he's thinking about how to get you alone and make his move." I nodded earnestly, giving her my most wide-eyed innocent look. "You should run out and get his number."

The elevator doors closed and he was out of sight. Becky shook her head. "He's probably some rapist kidnapper who will take me to China and sell me to the emperor."

"China's a communist country. There's no emperor." Adam put in, his half-smile showing how amused he was at our conversation.

"So?" Becky retorted. "He will take me back in time and sell me to the emperor. Then he'll hide the money and go to the future where it will have aged and be worth fifty times as much."

This was my favorite part of conversations with Becky. She loved taking absurd ideas and extending them to impossible levels. It was what made her so good in our magic elective class, she had no problem analyzing ludicrous spell ideas and making them so unbelievably ridiculous that they actually worked.

Becky and I are both magic users. Shamans, mages, wizards, witches… the title changes depending on what area you're in. In Southern California we typically go by 'casters' cause you know, we cast spells. You head up to Northern California and they call themselves mages. It's really all the same thing.

Anyway we have all the normal classes everyone else has: History, Math, English, Science, Elective, and Physical Education. Then we have our separate magic classes that are held on a college campus. There are three basic classes every caster takes: Magical Theory, Potions, and Magical Application. Then you have your fourth class which is an elective of your choice. Becky and I were in a class called 'Innovative Casting and Specialization' more commonly known as 'The Slacker Class for people who couldn't get into an advanced spellwork class.'

You get weird people in that class and it took a while for it to grow on Becky, but she got there and is now excelling. The basic premise of the class is that we experiment with alterations of existing spells and come up with new ones. It sounds challenging, but the people that take this class are all the people that are either too high to be allowed in another class or have a rather unnerving appreciation for explosions. And then there's Becky and me. Becky was getting some sort of digestive-system scan at registration and I slept in. So we got stuck with wherever there was space left.

We got to our room and settled down for bed. Becky took a shower before bed, trying to tame the curly poofy mess that was her hair outside the braid and slipped into the queen sized bed next to me. Adam had a bed to himself, cause he was a boy and was just that big.

Before the jetlag fully set in and we all collapsed in exhaustion I told Becky she should get the guy's number in the morning. Adam agreed saying, "You never know. He could be your soul mate. Besides, going on a date in England would be totally awesome. I think you should do it."

Becky groaned. Adam wasn't one of those over-protective brothers that attacked any boy interested in his baby sister. He was generally of the opinion that if someone wasn't treating his sister right, she should be allowed to make the first punch. He came home every Christmas with grand plans for the two of them to go on a double date.

Becky pulled a pillow over her head as Adam and I planned her wedding.

Clerk

Adam might have been right to be a bit more protective of his sister, and less interested in her future with the clerk because as the elevator closed and lifted the three Americans up several stories the he had hastily left the building to run into an alley along its side. He pulled a long stick out of his jacked and rolled up his sleeve, exposing a black tattoo of a skull and snake. He touched the tip of the stick to his and muttered softly.

The tattoo flashed green for a moment and then the clerk stood alone in the alley anxiously peering around. Despite the chill he wiped sweaty palms on his pant legs.

"What do you want?" Growled a voice behind him. The anxious boy jumped and spun around. "This had better be important."

The cloaked figure wore a skull mask that obscured the features of the man in front of him, but the clerk knew this man well, and all the threats he had made. The clerk had no doubts that every single one would be carried out if he failed to do as he was bid.

"Y-you told me to t-tell you if a R-Rebecca Nils came to stay here. H-her brother signed in today. T-they're in room 30B, on the f-fourth floor." He was shaking now, from fright and not cold.

The man in front of him was silent for a long moment. The clerk rubbed his hands together in a distracted, twitchy way.

"Are you certain?" The gravelly voice asked.

"Y-yes." The clerk's voice rose in pitch. "I saw her. She-she's exactly as you described, sir."

"Excellent. The Dark Lord will be pleased."

The Clerk let out a nervous, almost-hysterical chuckle. "I-I'm so glad! D-Do you, do you think I c-can go home now?"

"Not just yet." The cloaked man extended a hand and placed it on the clerk's shoulder. The clerk flinched as if the hand burned him. "Keep your post. I will tell you when it is time."

"Y-yes sir." The Clerk responded before scrambling back down the alley.

The cloaked man grinned underneath his mask. This was excellent. Everything was as the Dark Lord said. They would have the girl soon and the plan could go forward. He chuckled darkly. There was a loud pop of air rushing to fill the space the death eater had just filled. He left to inform his master of the good new news.

Totally unaware of the plots surrounding her, the blonde girl fell asleep in her hotel room on the fourth floor, the only worry on her mind being that she would lose control and burst into tears if Dr. Ontari proved to be just as unhelpful as the doctors back home.


	2. Chapter 2: Crypticity

Chapter 2: Crypticity

Rebecca

Too many images, too many sounds, my mind couldn't keep up. A few would stand out, but they were never good. Leering monsters, crashing planes, disappointed doctors all stared at me, just fragments of dreams that were connected only by an overlying feeling of fear and pain. I jerked in my sleep, then sat up suddenly in bed as pain lanced through my leg. Immediately I flopped back down into the pillows as my stomach shrieked its protests at the sharp movements.

I whimpered and wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling like if I didn't hold it in the pain would rip through my skin and appear as some horrible, formless shadow bent on devouring my soul. I took several short breathes, my heart hammering in my chest. Deeper breaths would have calmed me faster, but they involved too much stomach muscle. That was painful. Despite this I quickly made sense of reality and brushed a stray tear from my cheek. It was just leftover feelings from the fretful scraps my subconscious had thrown together in my sleep.

Once I calmed down I rose slowly to a sitting position and gingerly extricated my leg from the tangle of blankets. Every inch sent a jolt through my nerves and I gritted my teeth. When it was finally free I began to massage the muscles of my calf.

This had happened before. I'd be in the midst of an uncomfortable dream and would kick out. If my leg muscles were tightly bent before this I would pull the muscle and have a Charlie horse for the rest of the day. I sighed and gazed about the room, still massaging the limb.

Nikki was an incredibly deep sleeper. She was nearly impossible to wake up. Adam generally slept a lot lighter, but he was tired enough from the long flights that he hadn't woken when I did. That was good. That boy needed his sleep. I smiled lightly. That 'boy' was twenty-two, out of college and in his own house far from home, and had been bigger than most adults by the time he hit sixth grade. But to me he would always be the big brother that played 'bucking-bronco' with me on the trampoline, not some oldie adult.

A glance at the clock told her it was almost five in the morning. As far as painfully jerking awake from a restless sleep went, that wasn't too bad. On a normal school day I'd be getting up now anyhow. I giggled lightly. Now, anyhow. Yay for rhymes.

I tried extending my leg and winced. Too soon. I sighed again and reached to the side table for my ring. It was probably better for the muscles to naturally relax and stretch, but I wanted to get back to sleep soon.

I slid it onto my finger and mumbled a soft incantation. My hand began glowing a soft red and I rubbed it along my calf, willing the magical heat to make the pain fade away. I counted to thirty and then whispered the next part of the spell. The light faded to a soft blue and cold spread from my fingers into the muscles. I counted to thirty and repeated the spell. I'd designed this spell myself in class, figuring pain relievers were something everyone could use. Professor Harper had told me it shouldn't count since it was essentially an ointment in spell form but he gave me credit anyway.

Centuries ago shamans and wizards used different tools of power, wands and staves and such. Cortez used a sword, but that was a rare event after the crusades, when gunpowder became the physical destructive weapon of choice. And as cool as a cannon might have been, it was a bit unwieldy. There are claims of some people using pistols as their magic tools, but I think those are stretched Wild West stories. Some kids in my elective class had tried making a tool out of a gun (I didn't ask how they obtained it in the first place, let alone got it on campus) but the attempt had failed miserably. Long-distance weapons just weren't meant to work in that way.

I used to have a glove, but in California summers it was really annoying and needed to be cleaned all the time. Now I have this ring, far more fashionable and a heck of a lot easier to carry around. Someone told me they still use wands in Europe, which may be true but I think it's a silly and old-fashioned idea. Where exactly do you carry a wand anyhow? It doesn't seem like it would fit into a pocket very well. Whatever. Points to America for having more ingenuity.

After a few minutes my leg had relaxed enough for me to stretch it out again and go back to sleep. I woke up several hours later to Adam shaking my shoulders.

"Hey gorgeous, wake up!"

I groaned and lifted my head from my pillow and the considerably more pleasant dream I had been in the midst of. The details were fading fast but I knew I had been a part of some video game series.

"Adaaaam!" I whined. "I was winning!"

He had the decency to look apologetic. "Sorry. I'm going to go take a shower and then head down to breakfast. I'll leave waking up sleeping beauty here to you." I glanced over at Nikki. Her pillow was half-off the bed and her arms were splayed in some sort of swan dive. I snickered. "Do you want me to bring anything back up with me?"

"Nah. It's probably better if I don't eat before meeting with the doctor. I'll just bring a bagel or something with me in case they want blood tests." I had gotten fairly used to the 'so long as you're here, why don't you head down the hall and get some blood drawn' thing my regular doctor always did. I didn't really mind, but I didn't want to do it on an empty stomach.

Adam's face crinkled into an expression of disgust. He _hated _having his blood drawn. Needles made him twitch and watching his blood splurt into the little syringe nearly made him faint. I had no issues with either and secretly thought it was funny that such a big guy should be afraid of something as silly as that.

"Go take your shower." I told him. "I'll be fine."

"Okay." Adam kissed my forehead and paused for a moment. A mischievous look entered his eyes and, far quicker than his made scientific sense for someone of his size, he tapped me on the nose and darted into the bathroom.

"You jerk!" I yelled after him, scrunching my face up indignantly. His boisterous laugh echoed in the bathroom. It was a game we had played for several years, poking each other's nose. It was unending and silly and sometimes broke furniture, but it was our thing. The sounds of gushing water, followed shortly by a rendition of 'If I were a Rich Man' drifted from the room. I would have to get him later, when he least expected it. Solemnly vowing to do so when the opportunity presented itself I turned my attention to my current predicament. Getting up.

I moved the heavy blankets off my body, then rolled over in place, putting my weight on my arms and not my stomach. Then I pushed up with my arms, using only those muscles and not those of my stomach. Once I had lifted myself high enough to put my weight on my knees, I rotated my body and slipped off the bed. It's really not as complicated as it sounds. It's just my system for getting up in the least painful manner. It works.

Far more daunting was the prospect of waking Nikki up. Normally I had a kind of "get out of tense discussions alive" pass, I could say things to her that would get anyone else decapitated. The only time she ever really got mad at me was when I woke her up. Nicolette was not a morning person.

I slipped my ring back on my finger, just in case. I crept around the bed, pleased to see that my icy-hot treatment had been effective enough to give me only a slight limp.

I started gently, nudging her shoulder and calling her name. "Dearest Nicolette, the morn has dawned." I told her sleeping form. Not that it had really dawned in our room. The curtains were very effectively blocking the sun. I walked over to fling them open.

Light burst into the room and I squeaked, shielding my eyes. I squinted into the distance. I could just see a giant clock tower poking above the buildings. Seeing that allowed me to turn away from the blinding light with a smile. I found Nikki shifting uneasily in her sleep. The light had disturbed her. Good.

"Hey! Nicolette! Get up you lazy bones! I'll steal your MP3 Player!" The threat had no effect on her. I sighed and walked over to pull the blankets from her. She shivered lightly at the suddenly colder air but otherwise did not awaken. "Fair maiden, thou hast slumbered too long." I told her before climbing over her and shoving her off the bed. She dropped like a rock onto the floor and scrambled around in confusion, staring around with sleepy eyes.

"What?" She asked.

"Very articulate." I commented, grinning down at her from atop the bed.

It took Nikki's sleepy brain a full minute to comprehend where she was and why she was on the floor. I waited patiently, smiling all the while.

I knew it had clicked when she turned a death glare on me. "_You!"_ She growled.

"Me!" I exclaimed. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" I told her. "It's a beautiful morning!"

Nikki apparently did not agree because she attempted to tackle me. I sprang from the bed and darted away to hide behind Adam's bed, holding a hand to my stomach.

"Not beautiful." She grumbled groggily before flopping down and rubbing at her eyes.

"What do you mean I'm not beautiful?" Adam asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off his face. He gave her a hurt look. I laughed.

Nikki glanced at him and then covered her eyes. "ADAM! PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!" She yelled at him. I laughed harder.

Adam wasn't exactly immodest. He had a tower wrapped around his waist and legs, one around his shoulders, and one mopping at his long hair. His big hairy chest was exposed and he scratched at his stomach with hand. "You know I'm beautiful." He told her, striking a model pose.

Stifling another laugh I told him he was dripping and would ruin the carpet. He rolled his eyes, snatched some clothes from his suitcase and headed back into the bathroom to put them on. When he came back out he was fully clothed and waving a hair dryer at his head. I headed over and ran my ring hand over his hair, magically drying and untangling it. He nodded his thanks to me and headed downstairs to see what the continental breakfast had to offer.

Nikki took over the bathroom next and I changed out of my pajamas and into some normal clothes. My shirt was fairly loose. Any tightness over my belly resulted in unhappy digestive organs.

When Nikki finished showering, dressing, styling, applying make-up, washing it off and reapplying it, then redoing her hair, changing her clothes again because she realized she had left the matching earrings at home, and the redoing the make-up again to match this new outfit we headed down to the lobby to meet up with Adam. He seemed to be involved in a conversation with some guy at the utensils and packaged butter station. He was gesturing wildly and laughing uproariously. Typical Adam.

Nikki drifted towards the French toast and I headed for a table, the thought of food making my stomach roil unpleasantly. I was always the sickest right in the morning and late at night. Normally I made myself eat breakfast anyway but today I had an excuse to avoid that particular pain.

I had just found a table when someone grabbed my arm and dragged me behind some sort of fake plant. I squeaked lightly but made no other noise. I stared incredulously at the perpetrator. It was the clerk. Remembering all the things my brother and friend had said last night I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious and wondered if I should have paid more attention to whether or not my clothes matched.

He wasn't really looking at me though, his eyes were darting around the room nervously. Feeling awkward, I took a step back. It was too confined between the plant and the wall and the Clerk. A panicked look crossed his face and he dragged me back.

"You're in danger!" He told me. "Grave, grave danger!"

I just looked at him stupidly. "Uh…What?"

"Danger! The Dark Lord seeks you!" He gripped my arms and shook my lightly. "You must leave at once! Leave or he will get you!"

This was weird. And when I thought something was weird, it was really weird. So much for marriage and two kids, the poor man was a nutcase. Or a drinker. "Are you okay?" I asked him, taking his hands lightly off of me and putting some space between us.

"Listen to me!" He hissed earnestly, eyes darting around again. He was kind of twitchy. I guess I wasn't the only one who needed a doctor. "You need to get away from here. The Dark Lord is coming!"

This sounded like a line out of a bad movie, or some falsely intense Power Rangers episode. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping Nikki would see us and come save me. "Look, thanks for the uh… warning. Really. But I have to go." I turned and tried to hurry away without looking like I was hurrying. I slipped into a seat across from Nikki. I could still feel him staring at me though. Anxious eyes bored into my shoulder blades as I watched Adam eat his mountain of food and Nikki pick at her toast.

I didn't want to talk about the encounter while the guy was still in the room with me, but he was making me uncomfortable. "Nikki, is that clerk looking at me?"

Nicolette was an expert at this sort of thing. She surreptitiously lifted her gaze just slightly over my shoulder. By all appearances it would seem like she was simply looking at me as we talked. The girl is a genius sometimes.

"Yeah. Wait, he just looked away. Now he's looking at us again. He's kinda twitchy." She flicked her eyes back to her next bite of toast and then back to me.

"He just told me I need to get out of here because some Dark Lord is coming." I frowned. "It was kinda creepy."

Adam, less skilled at subtle observation, looked directly at the clerk and then back at us. "Dark Lord?"

"Yeah." I shrugged. "I don't know what means."

"It means he's totally in love with you." Nikki responded with a wide grin. I kicked her under the table. "Ow! Becky!"

A clock chimed and Adam looked up. "We should head out soon. Are you two ready?"

"Just have to grab my bag. I left it upstairs." I responded. Nikki got up from the table when I did, because heaven only knew what horror might happen if a girl went anywhere without a friend with her. Going anywhere alone… it just wasn't done. It was in the unwritten code of womanly conduct. "We'll be right back."

We got to the room and I closed the door quickly.

"Geeze, what a creeper." Nikki muttered as she began filling her purse with necessities: lip gloss, mascara, cell phone, MP3, chapstick, eye liner.

I picked up my backpack and put my own essentials in it: pain killers, prescription medicine, water bottle, novel, folder of important papers, pens, cell phone, Ipod, wallet. "Dude, I know. Did you see his face?"

Nikki nodded. "He looked freaked out."

"He certainly freaked me out." I shivered a bit and grabbed an extra jacket. I hated the extra pressure another layer put on me but I hated the cold more.

"Well don't worry too much about it. Adam'll kick his butt if he tries anything. And then he'll get a piece of this and he'll never look at any girl again." She shook her fist menacingly in the general direction of the lobby. I laughed, but I knew she was only half-joking. The glint of steel and obsidian on her index finger was not something you wanted as an enemy.

Her ring was a bulky, ostentatious thing. She claimed she wouldn't marry anyone who couldn't get her a bigger rock than the one on her tool of choice. It was a big contrast to mine, which had a pretty silver band around a small white opal. Vines spelling my name in a loopy cursive ran along the sides, but it was otherwise fairly unremarkable. I like it that way. I liked pretending it was a symbol of hidden strength underneath a simple surface.

"Ready?" I asked her. She nodded and we skipped back to the elevator and the lobby. I slipped my sunglasses on so I could glance at the clerk without him knowing. He was talking to some tall red-haired man. I dismissed it as a new guest and followed Adam to the taxi. The prospect of a new doctor pushed the cryptic clerk warnings out of my head.

Adam and Nikki carried on some conversation around me, but my mind drifted away. I watched the streets of London slide past us through the taxi window and wished I was on my way to do something touristy and not sickly. The usual pre-doctor struggle entered my mind. Part of me wanted to be optimistic and say that this time for sure would be the day someone diagnosed and cured me. Part of me was afraid to let that hope take over though. It would be that much harder when it turned out differently. So I schooled myself to feel nothing, to neither hope or doubt. No disappointment could get me this way.

My GI doctor had given me some odd instructions in regards to getting to the doctor. If we were going by cab we were to give the driver instructions to go to the building next to the doctor's office and then wait until the car had driven away before going into the one we wanted.

It didn't make any sense to me, but I don't have a P.H.D. in gastro-intestinal dealings so what do I know?

The lobby was pretty, marble floors and great big pillars lined the way to the front desk. Since I was the one we were here for I walked up to it. I expected to see a lady with a phone in the crook of her neck scheduling things on her computer, since that was the only thing I ever saw secretaries doing.

Instead I found a lady dressed in some sort of monk's robe riffling through some papers on a desk that was conspicuously lacking in a PC. She was tapping her cheek with a long wooden stick and had a thoughtful expression on her face.

Nikki and I raised our eyebrows at each other. I didn't know anything about fashion but I was fairly certain that outside of graduations and Halloween parties, long flowing robes had been discarded in the late sixteen hundreds.

"Umm…excuse me?" I asked. The lady jumped and sparks shot out of the end of her stick. I jumped back, eyes wide.

The woman dropped her stick and sighed, giving me an apologetic look. "Sorry. It's not my wand, mine broke the other day and I haven't had a chance to stop by Ollivanders."

This was met with three blank stares. She looked a little embarrassed.

"Um…Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm Rebecca Nils. I have an appointment with Dr. Ontari?" She nodded and dug in a drawer. She handed me a small packet of papers and a feather.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Just some personal information and some agreements."

She apparently thought I was confused about the papers and not the fluffy avian-cast off I was holding up. I knew about the papers. I'd filled out many of them in the past.

"The waiting room is on the second floor. Fill out those papers and then put them in the blue box and he will be with you shortly. The quill is self-inking." She smiled kindly at me. I had found there were two typed of secretaries at doctors' offices. There was the kind that understood that everyone coming to see them was sick and felt a need to be extra kind. Then there were the ones that were very close to their lunch break and didn't appreciate you interrupting their anxious wait with your silly concerns. Since she seemed to be a member of the former group I forgave her for the oddities.

"Um… Thank you." I smiled at her and she pointed me to the stairs.

We walked up them and found the waiting room prominently labeled. I sighed and opened the door, holding it for Adam and Nikki. It was a small room with chairs along the edge. A few people sat in them, reading the thoughtfully provided copies of five-month old magazines. Another door was on the far side of the room with a blue box next to it. This was fairly normal. The two people on the other hand, were not.

They were dressed just like the lady a floor below. One was even wearing a tall pointed hat with a wide brim. I had three similar hats in a costume box at home. Maybe it was some 'Dress like an old-fashioned witch' day and I had missed the memo. With a mental shrug I sat myself down nearest to the far door and dropped my backpack to my feet.

"Why'd she give you a feather?" Nikki asked me, sitting down next to me.

"I have no idea." I shrugged. "Maybe it's like the stickers you get at the dentist. You know, to somehow make you feel better." I reached over and tickled her under the neck with it. She laughed and smacked my hand. I laughed and pulled a pen from my backpack. I clicked it five times, because you can never just click a pen once, and began filling in my basic contact information.

The usual things were listed: name, date of birth, known allergies, symptoms I displayed. When I got to the last page I paused though.

"Why do they need to know my astrological sign?" I asked my two companions. "And…" I paused as I scanned the rest of the absurd questions. "What does the color of my front door have to do with anything?"

Nikki pulled one of her earphones out and looked over my shoulder. "It looks like some sort of get-to-know-you questionnaire."

"Awkward." I responded with a smile.

"Seriously." She laughed and put her earphone back in.

I dutifully filled out the rest of the questions, happily replying that "42" was the meaning of life and that I couldn't care less who had won the Quidditch cup of '87. I flipped back through the packet, sure I'd missed a question. In every one of these I had filled out before there had always been a little box with the word "magic" next to it. Checking it informed the people working with me that I was a Caster. It was a fairly important bit of information and I wondered at its absence. But with a shrug I plopped the packed in the box. I sat there for a minute before disappearing. I blinked.

"Where'd it-"

The door opened and a short woman with mousey brown hair stepped out. She read my name off of a clipboard and I hesitantly got up to follow her. She was in those weird robes too.

Adam and Nikki got up as well and we followed the woman through the door and down a hall. I tried not to think of the door closing behind me as the entrance to some hellish prison and the click of the lock the turning of a key sealing me to my doom. Stupid over-active imagination.

It wasn't like anything was really going to happen. I'd go in, we'd exchange pleasantries, he would ask me to pull my shirt up enough for him to feel my stomach for abnormal bulge (of which he would find none) and then he'd schedule me for some complicated scan and we'd be on our way out feeling disappointed. It was a preliminary meeting, not a full examination.

The woman told us that the doctor was with another patient and would meet us shortly and left us in a tiny room. Weirdly attired people or not, _this _room looks the same no matter what country you're in. There are always the cabinets above the sink and counter across from the bed thing with the sheet of crinkly paper over it. It has a small step stool in case you're really short and a few shelves above it. The shelves are full of stethoscopes and other standard testing tools. Health propaganda covers the walls and invites you to eat healthy and keep off drugs. Cheap blinds covered the window on the far wall.

I hopped up on the bed and swung my legs slowly. Nikki and Adam sat on some stools that had been provided for them.

"So how are you feeling?" Adam asked me. He'd been oddly silent this whole time.

"Fine." I responded shortly.

The door swung open to reveal a man in blue robes, reading off of a clipboard. "Rebecca Nils?" He looked at me. I nodded. "Good to meet you. I'm Dr. Ontari."

I shook his hand and he pulled a wooden stick from his pocket. He glanced nervously to the door. I followed his eyes. I could see the shadows of someone's feet under the doorway. He turned his attention back to us.

"Are you Mr. Nils?" He asked Adam.

"Sort of." Adam grinned at him. "I'm Rebecca's brother, Adam."

The doctor nodded slowly. "Are you her sister?" He was talking to Nikki now. She shook her head.

"I'm Nicolette, Becky's best friend."

"Forever?" Dr Ontari asked with a smile.

"Forever and ever." Nikki responded with a laugh.

He nodded. "Well Rebecca, I've had a chance to look over your previous scans. Here's my diagnosis." He handed a paper to Adam to read. He gave the doctor a strange look and handed it to Nikki. This looked odd to me.

"Do you mind if I feel your stomach?"

I peeled off my jacket and rolled my T-shirt upward, then I laid down on the bed. He felt along my sides and over my belly button. It was kind of an awkward procedure, but everyone did it so I was used to it.

"Do people normally tell you they can feel abnormal lumps?"

"No." I answered. "Can you?"

"No, no. I was just wondering. You can sit up now." He handed me a paper as I sat up and readjusted my shirt. I glanced at it.

_He's seeking you. I'm going to portkey you somewhere safe. They're listening, keep calm._

I blanched and stared at him. He gave the door a significant look and continued with his calm doctor-voice.

"Would you hold on to this please? I'm going to check your blood pressure." He gave me the end of his stethoscope. And despite all evidence to the contrary, I really didn't think it was going to tell him much about my blood pressure.

"What?" I asked, looking from him to the instrument.

He gave me a pleading look so I took it. He pointed at the stethoscope ear pieces and my two companions each grabbed an ear piece.

"This is weird." Nikki muttered.

"You're reading normal." The doctor scribbled on his clipboard and lifted it up for me to see.

It said _Just trust me_. He reached between our trio and grabbed onto the plastic.

"Open your mouth please." He pointed down at my backpack and motioned for me to put it on. I had just slipped the shoulder strap on when the door burst open.

A dark figure stood in the doorway, pointing another of the long sticks everybody seemed to have at us. Black robes billowed about his tall figure, and a skull mask covered his face.

"Stupefy!" He growled. A jet of red light shot out from the tip and smacked into my stomach. I gasped and my hold on the stethoscope slipped.

"No!" The doctor yelled, reaching for me. His hand closed over the backpack strap and part of my jacket when the port key activated.

Half my sleeve ripped off along with my backpack and they disappeared, leaving me alone in the overly-sterilized room with a masked man in a black cloak.

He laughed and stepped forward. My muscles took a long time to respond to my panic, but I managed to scramble back against the wall. The end of the stick hovered by my neck.

"Tell me, is your name Rebecca Lynne Nils?" He asked, his British accent giving his words an intelligent lilt.

I nodded slowly. "Who are you?" I asked him, wondering if I should be more frightened. His get-up looked ridiculous and I couldn't help but compare the stick to the ones Adam, Victor, and I used to sword fight with. They were dangerous in their own right I suppose. I mean, he could poke an eye out.

"My name does not concern you, mistress of dreams."

My heart skipped a beat and I suddenly felt very cold. How did he know about that?

"We're going on a trip." He reached out and grabbed my hand. I started to pull away but he jerked me forward and apparated us away.

I don't know where we landed. I was aware of a circle of darkly clothed people before dizziness enveloped my head and my vision blurred. There was a reason we had taken a plane and not any form of jarring magical transportation. I dropped to my knees and began to cough. Deep, hacking coughs racked my form. I wrapped my arms around my middle, practically feeling the seams in my stomach lining tearing.

Blood dribbled down my chin and I spat out a disgusting clump of red-tinged saliva and who knows what else.

My body gave one all-encompassing shudder and I sagged on the floor. It was a stone floor and comfortingly chilly. I trembled and tried not to hyperventilate as tears slid down my cheeks. It hurt so bad…

"I thought I told you not to hurt her." An icy voice called out. It's sound made goosebumps spread over my skin and sent me into another fit of painful shudders. "This girl is going to win the war for us and you bring her to me in this condition?"

"Master-I, I didn't hurt her! I just-"

"You just didn't think. I will deal with you later. Bella, why don't you be a dear and help our honored guest to a more comfortable location?"

Hands gripped my shoulders but I yelped and knocked them away. "No, don't touch me." I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want to listen to the icy voice. I didn't want to move. I hurt. I whimpered.

"Narcissa, help your sister."

Someone else drifted forward and knelt in front of me. A blonde head drifted into my very limited field of vision. Hands cupped my face and lifted my chin. I looked into a pretty, but troubled female face. "Hush now. Do as you're told." She whispered to me before she and her sister helped me to me feet and carried me away.

"Look upon the form of our triumph, my loyal subjects. The Mistress of Dreams has come."

Cheers and cackling echoed behind me as I hobbled from the room, clutching at my stomach and wiping blood from my chin. Dread seeped into my heart and coiled like a trapped snake, ready to spring.

Oh dear God, what was going on?


	3. Chapter 3: P of P and P

**Should I be doing some sort of author's note here? I forgot to on the last two chapters. Sorry this took so long to get up. I could go on about essays and homework and the flu and how the chapter just didn't want to end, but I won't. ;)  
**

**And that disclaimer thing. I disclaim all things that do not belong to me. Rawr.  
**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 3 Prospects of People and Perversion

Nicolette

We landed in a heap in some garden. Adam and I clonked heads before breaking apart and rounding on the doctor. Rage burned through my veins. I was going to kill him.

"What the heck!?" I yelled. "What the crap was that!?" I advanced on the man, pointing my ring at him threateningly. "Take us back! Take us back to Becky!"

He scrambled to his feet and raised his hands up in a surrender position. "I can't, it only goes one way. Please calm down!"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN!?" Tears had actually formed in my eyes, I was so angry. My arm trembled as I pointed it at him and shouted at him. "I'LL GIVE YOU CALM." Energy blasted from my finger and threw the doctor into the air. He landed in some sort of shrub. Pointing at the bush I chanted words of herbal lore, bringing thorns out of every vine. He yelped. "YOU TELL ME WHERE BECKY IS RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I'LL—"

"Nikki!" Adam yelled, grabbing my arm. "Stop, this isn't helping!"

It was certainly helping me. I shook Adam off and glared as the doctor pulled himself out of the painful shrubbery. I felt a dark sense of satisfaction as the thorns grabbed at him. When he finally pulled free he was bleeding in more than a few areas and his robes were a shredded mess.

I was about to march over there and push him back in when Adam stopped me. "_Nikki. Stop."_

I forgot my anger in the shock of his tone. Becky had told me about this voice, the 'angry voice'. Adam was a big and loud but he was not an angry person. It took so much to rile him up that I had never seen it happen before. His voice was low and dangerous, bordering on a growl. I backed down, suddenly a little afraid of what he would do.

He walked forward and stared down at the doctor, who looked like he wanted to crawl back into the bush.

"Where is my sister?" Adam asked in that deep, frightening tone.

Dr. Ontari sighed. "I don't know. That death eater could have taken her anywhere."

"Death… eater?"

"The man in the mask. He's a followed of He Who Must Not Be Named. They call themselves death eaters. I was trying to get her away from him, honestly. I never meant for any harm to come to your sister."

I scowled. Way to save the day, buck-oh.

"And now?" Adam asked.

The man shrugged helplessly. "Now I report my failure and we make a new plan."

"Report to who?"

"Dr. Ontari! What happened? Is this her?" Some lady with red hair rushed into the garden. Her eyes were on me and they held this strange look of intense apprehension.

"No. No, that's not her. Molly, they got her." The doctor answered, sagging in on himself. Molly gasped and covered her mouth, fear and shock crossing her features. "This is her brother and her friend."

Adam seemed to fall out of his dark mood. He put a hand to his head and let out a long, forlorn sigh. The woman stepped over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and it seemed to me he was shaking lightly. "My baby sister…" He whispered.

This Molly person nodded consolingly. I snorted. What did _she _know? "Why don't you come inside, I'll make you some tea. I understand how you're feeling. We'll talk this over inside and see what we can do."

I doubted that. Adam was a rock, and he was cracking now. He let himself be led by the arm down some path I hadn't noticed before though, so evidently he believed her. I for sure did not.

"_Talk this over!?_" I yelled incredulously. "You just left my best friend in the hands of some freak and you just want to _talk this over!?"_

They gave me pitying looks. I felt the rage building in me again. They should be pitying themselves, because boy when I was done with them…

"Molly, we need to get to the next portkey, if we were followed…"

"They got what they wanted; they're not going to come here." Molly told him. "We were prepared to house them here anyway. You go ahead and report. We'll be fine here."

"Sure, we'll be fine! What about Becky!?" I snapped at them. Why did they want to have tea and jump around when she could be in _mortal peril!?_

"What do you want me to do?" The doctor asked me plaintively. "Please, if you have a suggestion I would gladly do it."

I opened my mouth to give him an adequately scathing retort, dictating _exactly_ what I thought he should do when I realized something. I didn't actually _have_ a plan. Planning was Becky's thing. I just acted. I closed my mouth and paused. The brief reprieve from my anger gave me a chance to actually look at him. Dr. Ontari had a horribly familiar expression on his face. Becky got the same look in her eyes when her stomach got too much for her. The expression she wore when she was trying to hide her pain for the sake of the person visiting, and failing. Guilt and pain and frustration. I wouldn't yell at Becky like this, so I can't yell at the doctor. On the outside.

With this parallel in my mind I sighed and apologized.

The doctor put a hand on my shoulder and that was the end of that.

Molly led us to a house that rivaled the leaning tower of Pisa, brought us into the kitchen, and gave us all tea and biscuits. I met this with a bitter laugh. It was just so…British.

They kept up this show of normalcy, probably trying to calm down Adam and me. It wasn't working. I could see the tension inside Adam building up. He was like me. We didn't need to sit around and talk. We needed to act. But Molly was waiting for something and so we sat there in an awkward silence, drinking tea.

***

Rebecca

I was in Malfoy Manor, apparently owned by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy who had donated it to the cause of the Dark Lord. This much I learned from a frightened house elf that had brought me a tray of tea. The poor thing looked so sad in its rags that I didn't have the heart to tell it I didn't like tea. So I sipped it occasionally and fought back a grimace each time.

"So it is my… honor… to serve this…Dark Lord… in this grand plot?" I asked him for clarification. Earlier he had declared his name to be Reggie and that it was his duty to attend me until the mistress returned and gave him new orders.

"Is greatest honor, Miss Nils." Reggie was perched on a stool. He was constantly pulling at one of his giant bat-ears and had an annoying tendency to suddenly spin around to stare into shadows.

"And I have definitely not been kidnapped."

"No, no. No kidnapping. Master never do something like that." He gave me such an earnest look that I almost believed him. If I hadn't been there during the not-kidnapping, I might have. That guy in the other room called me an 'honored guest'. I called it conscription and thought it was quite ironically English of them to do it.

"Huh. Okay. And you can't tell me anything about how I'm supposed to be serving?"

"No, no. Reggie never tell Master's secrets." I wondered if he practiced that "Trust me" look in a mirror.

"So I'm serving the Dark Lord's purposes in secret ways to further the cause of the Death Eaters, which are an elite society of pure wizards, and not a secret cult." He had gotten very agitated when I had accused them of being such earlier in the conversation.

"Yes, yes."

"And you don't know anything about me being the Mistress of Dreams." He hesitated before acquiescing the validity of this statement, which made me think this was one of 'Master's secrets'. "And what is the purpose of the grand plan?"

He rocked back and forth lightly, probably trying to decide if this was a secret or not.

"Surely I'm allowed to know the end result? If not the finer details? Just the goal?"

"Master… master would not approve of Reggie discussing such thing with the honored guest. Would Miss Nils like her pillows fluffed? Or more blankets? Reggie is here to serve." He was trying to distract me.

"No, thank you." I responded. He had already fluffed my pillows twice and I had more blankets than I knew what to do with.

It actually did look like I was an honored guest of some sort. At least, I was in a very expensively furnished bedroom. I was in a four-poster bed twice as big as mine at home, wrapped in silk sheets and beautiful quilts. The headboard was elegantly carved with the Malfoy family crest and the pillows were stuffed were stuffed with wonderful feathers.

Green was a common color throughout the room. The velvet curtains matched the plush carpets. Black and silver worked their way into the scheme, with an ebony vanity table and silver inlaid mirrors. I hadn't had a chance to peruse the bookshelves lining one wall, but they proudly offered an expensive collection of fabulous literature.

Personally, I enjoyed it. It had all the things I liked in a bedroom: Nicely shadowed atmosphere, books, big and obvious window, as little of the color white as possible, and fluffy carpets. The green was easy on my eyes and reminiscent of my room back home. Light came from torches along the walls (natural lightning, none of the painful artificial stuff) and there was a giant window with a little, cushioned seat in front of it where I imagined I could sit if I got up the nerve to get out of bed.

All and all, it was a pretty comfortable prison. I gave it a ten.

"Is Miss Nils sure she is feeling better?" His concern was sweet, but his persistence in repeating the question ten times was annoying.

"Yes Reggie, thank you." I smiled at him to emphasize this. I did feel better. The crippling pain that had forced me to the floor in front of all those people had all but faded. It usually did. I really just felt embarrassed to have done that in front of them, even if they did belong to a not-kidnapping secret cult. Collapsing on the ground in a coughing fit wasn't something I liked doing in public. It made people nervous and then they were always calling and looking at you like you're going to fall over at any moment.

Reggie kicked his feet back and forth under his stool before jumping up suddenly. "Master is calling!" And with a pop of displaced air he disappeared.

That left me alone, so I sagged back into the very fluffy pillows and sighed. Beautiful room or not, no good could come of this. No one outside of my class knew about my dream powers. Except maybe that seer, but she hadn't remembered anything after declaring me the 'Mistress of Dreams' in that alarming prophesy. Hadn't she? Had she just been pretending?

But regardless of _how_ they found out about me, _what _were they planning to do about it? Even as distracted as I was I hadn't liked the talk about me being the form of triumph or whatever.

When the two sisters had brought me to this room, the blonde one had given me a handkerchief for my bloody face, ordered Reggie to babysit me, and left without a second glance.

Bella on the other hand had carefully tucked me under the quilt, trembling as she did so. She had wild black-brown hair and wilder black eyes. She had touched my cheek with one hand and in a fervent, frightening whisper said, "All our dreams will come true through you. You are the key." The awed look in her eyes and the madly gleeful smile made me want to hide underneath the blankets and not come back out. After ensuring that Reggie was bringing me tea to ease my pain she had tenderly stroked my hair and left the room.

Fully creeped out, I had started demanding answers of the house elf. He had patiently answered as he could and let me calm down with my tea. But now that I was alone again, the fear began to seep back into my system.

I didn't want to be the key. _Especially_ not the key to some secret, sinister plot by some guy calling himself the 'Dark Lord'.

The _Pop _signaling Reggie's return made me jump. I just managed to keep form dropping the tea cup.

"Master wants to know if you are well enough to join them for their evening meal." Reggie asked me, eyeing the new stain on my shirt. The tea's brown probably made a lovely compliment to the blood splotches.

Evening meal? Honored guest indeed.

"Um…sure." I wasn't sure if I was feeling that much better, but I _was_ hungry.

Reggie popped away to deliver my acceptance and then popped back. "Mistress asks that you wash and change first. Miss Nils can follow Reggie and he will bring her to the bath. Reggie will bring fresh clothes after."

"Oh, um...thank you." I carefully crawled off the bed and followed the house elf down the hall.

I felt pathetic walking behind him. I walked as smoothly as possible in an attempt to lessen any jarring movements. For me this translates into a frustratingly slow roll-step. Really, I may as well be crawling. The house elf doesn't even reach my knees and he's faster than me.

And to think I played offence in soccer for eight years. Ah, woe is me.

I lost track of my depressing train of thought when I entered the bathroom. It was gorgeous. Dark marble gleamed in the torchlight from the floors and counters. The tub itself was part of the floor and reminded me of a Jacuzzi, except with golden faucets and scented water. It was already full of steaming water and I could just see the Malfoy Crest at the bottom. Except for the one with the door and occasional interruptions of sconces, each wall was made entirely of mirrors. I looked up to see myself reflected in the ceiling. Scores of bottles lined the counter, ranging from all kinds of shampoos to lotions to perfumes. Fluffy white towels were stacked on top of the toilet, which stood next to the sink.

If heaven were a bathroom…

"Wow." I stated, feeling rather low-class.

"Reggie will exchange your old clothes for new ones. Miss Nils can turn the waterfall on by pressing the snake eyes."

He was gone before I could ask what he meant. I shrugged and gingerly removed my stained clothes, keeping my ring with me. They dropped to the floor and I slowly lowered myself into the tub. I jumped as soaps materialized around me, then laughed at my silliness.

It didn't take long for me to find the snake eyes. On closer inspection I found that each faucet was in the shape of a snake. It was kind of cool, in a creepy sort of way. I didn't have anything in particular against snakes; I mean they made for cool _Animal Planet_ specials, so I shrugged it off as just an odd quirk of the Malfoy family. Personally, if I had to pick a reptile, I would have gone with crocodile faucets, but to each his own. In any case, one of them had emeralds where the eyes should be. I pressed them and waited for something to happen.

There was a soft rumble and then water began to pour from the ceiling onto my head. I squeaked in surprise and then grinned and began to wash my hair.

I would have liked to lounge in the tub for much longer, but I never could sit still for that long without having something to do. Besides, I didn't want to keep anyone from their dinner, so I finished quickly and used my ring to bring a towel to me. I used it to dry off my body and had just tied it around my middle when Reggie appeared.

I jumped backwards and nearly fell into the tub again.

"Reggie did not mean to startle Miss Nils! Reggie is very sorry miss!" The poor elf's ears drooped and he hung his head sadly.

"It's okay, I'm—What on earth are you doing!?" He had placed a bundle on the counter and proceeded to beat his head against it. I rushed forward and pulled him away from the marble. His nose was bent awkwardly and his cheek was starting to swell. "Reggie?"

"Reggie must punish himself. Reggie did bad thing scaring Most Honored Guest. Master be very displeased with Reggie." Tears welled up in his eyes and he struggled towards the sink.

I didn't have a house elf but I knew several people who did. I did know about the laws house elves followed. I didn't like them, but generally they were self-imposed. The house elf made the choice and normally I respected their way of life. But I had never had one beat himself because of _me_. It made me feel dirty.

"Reggie, stop! You didn't scare me. I was just a little surprised, that's all. It's okay! I'm fine!" His struggles slowed, which was a good thing because I couldn't keep holding him for much longer.

"Master will be most displeased."

"He doesn't need to know. Just don't tell him." I let go of the house elf and leaned against the counter.

"Master always knows." Reggie muttered ominously, tugging at his ear. "Miss Nils should get dressed."

"Um…right." I'd forgotten I was only wearing a towel. Awkward. "Could you uh, wait outside?"

Reggie nodded and disappeared. I skimmed my hand over my hair, drying the excess water. I preferred to naturally dry my hair but I was short on time right now.

I'd been given a pretty, flowing dress, a pair of simple dress shoes, and some sort of fancy bathrobe. The dress had a beautifully embroidered black bodice, and the skirt tumbled elegantly around my legs. I guessed the robe was supposed to go over the dress, like the ones the people in the doctor's office had worn. It was a shimmering silvery color, and it set of the silver in the embroidery nicely.

A necklace had been provided for me, along with a pair of swirly earrings. The necklace was simple enough, a silver chain with a snake figure hanging from it. It was twisted like a Side-Winder. Ignoring the Malfoys' apparent obsession with snakes, I decided it looked kind of pretty.

After fumbling with the clasp I appraised myself in the mirror-walls. My hair was a mess, but the rest of me looked presentable. Well, presentable if I was appearing before some sort of Renaissance court. I found a brush in a drawer and pulled out the tangles.

I epically fail at hair-styling so I didn't even bother doing more than that. I can kind of make a pony tail. If I'm desperate. And have half an hour.

I normally never put on make-up, but I wanted to now. Tired circles hung under my eyes, accented by my pale face. I put a lot of energy into trying not to look sick, but my episode this morning wasn't something a smile was going to hide. The black dress just made me look sicker. Well, it was their fault for apparating me.

I left the bathroom and looked around for my trusty house-elf escort. He wasn't there. Instead a teenage boy with bright blonde hair was leaning against the wall. He wore black robes over some sort of evening suit. A friendly half-smile pulled an aristocratic mouth to the side, but his unnervingly pale grey eyes did not share its congeniality. I could see the angry glare behind it, some deep hatred directed solely at me. A cold shiver slid down my spine.

"Um… Hi." I put on a happy smile and tried not to look nervous.

He inclined his head, pushed off the wall, and walked closer. I fought the urge to back up.

"Hello, Miss Nils." He responded shortly. I couldn't place his age exactly. He was probably about my age, but his appearance was full of contrasts. His blonde hair made him look far younger than his ancient eyes did. He had eyes that had seen too much, too much for the innocent color to keep up with. I thought his face looked disjointed, like it was being held together only by habit but he had really lost all hope for keeping it. His eyes were pained and tired, but still held defiance. His angel hair was slicked back in a gel cage, restrained in his attempt to keep it perfect, to keep control.

I found myself sinking into his eyes. The pain drew me. I wanted to know what tortures lurked behind the swirling grays and I wanted to soothe them away. I felt the power sliding through my veins and I could see shadows behind his iris, swirling, shifting shadows. If I could just catch one, I could open it up and see…

No! I shut my eyes and dragged my mind back to the here and now. I counted my suddenly frantic heart beats until I felt the surge of energy dissipate. I hesitantly opened my eyes again, hoping I'd stopped it in time.

I smiled and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. He had unconsciously placed his fingers against his temple—probably a natural reaction to the faint headache I probably caused—but otherwise he did not look as if anything odd had happened.

He didn't smile back.

"Um… where did Reggie go?"

"He's probably off cleaning something. I'll be escorting you to dinner." He had a brisk, sharp way of speaking, like he only had a certain amount of breath to spare and it couldn't be wasted saying just anything.

"Oh." Ha, and I'd teased Nikki about being articulate. "Um, I'm sorry, but who are you?"

A look of surprise crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by scorn. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Apparently I was supposed to already know that. How silly of me. Well, I was going to be polite even if he wasn't. "It's nice to meet you."

He looked at me like I'd just told him zombies were crawling out of the bath tub. Maybe I hadn't been quick enough after all… But then he laughed so I relaxed into a self-conscious grimace.

"Nice to meet me? Really?" He snorted and straightened his coat. "You're either a liar or delusional."

When I raised my eyebrows and he smirked. "Maybe both."

"Sorry." I don't know why I apologized. It just seemed appropriate.

It apparently wasn't because he chuckled. "Liar." He accused again, his eyes danced with some sort of dark humor.

"What?" Now I was getting annoyed. I put my hands on my hips and scowled. "I'm not a liar!"

"Then what are you sorry for?"

I wanted so desperately to say 'Your mother' but that would have been rude and I'm a good little girl, so I refrained. I _thought _it though and I hope he felt my brain saying it. On the outside I shrugged and responded with, "I don't know. Trying to be polite I guess. Sorry I broke your stoic countenance."

He smirked. "Hardly. My countenance is the ocean and you a pebble. You merely skim the surface of my immense stoicism."

As egotistical as that comment was, I am a sucker for a good metaphor and this made me smile.

"You would do well not to underestimate my pebble prowess. A single stone is all it takes to upset the balance and cause entire mountains to collapse, forever altering the face of the earth. Mortal eyes cannot comprehend the effect of one pebble's ripple." I adopted a haughty, poetic voice to counter his.

He suddenly became very serious. "We should be getting to dinner." He muttered shortly. He offered me his elbow. I slipped my arm through it. He flinched when I touched him. I wondered what I had said.

"I was joking." I tried to assure him. I didn't like fear I could feel in him. I felt really guilt all of a sudden.

"Some jokes ring true." He responded as he pulled me down the hall.

I didn't need to be able to see the shadows in his eyes to know the source of his tension.

He was afraid of me.

What the heck?

We were mostly silent the rest of the way to dinner. It was a long way, the manor was huge, but I was too distracted to really notice. What did Draco know? How did he know? Did he think I was some sort of monster? Would everyone think I was a monster? Was I a monster?

I was starting to feel panicked. People weren't supposed to be afraid of me. I was the nice person. I was the one people went to when they couldn't answer a question in Sunday school. Someone had gotten the wrong idea about what I could do and now people were afraid of me. This was awful.

I felt my heartbeat quicken and my stomach start to roil around as I stressed. The torches we passed flickered. I needed to relax. Breathe body, breathe. In and out. In and out.

Calm down, dang it!

"So Draco's an interesting name. Are your parents into Greek mythology?" I took a stab at initiating conversation. That might distract me.

It apparently just made me look uninformed because he gave me that scornful stop-acting-like-an-ignorant-idiot-everybody-already-knows-that look again. "It's a tradition on my mother's side of the family to name every child after a star. It's an ancient and noble name."

"Oh, that's cool. Did you get teased in kindergarten?" I kept my eyes on the floor. The floor was friendly. It didn't think I was a monster.

"Kindergarten?" I glanced up to meet his confused eyes.

"Yeah. You know…the school for five-year-olds? Where you learn to read and write your name? The Germans brought it over in the 1800's?" It occurred to me that the Germans had brought it over to America, not over to England. "Er, to America. It might have already been here."

"I didn't go to kindergarten. I had private tutors until I was of age to go to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

"The school?" He was looking at me like I was dumb. But it was a step up from evil-girl-child so I was grateful for it.

"Unless we're beating them in band competitions I don't really know any schools outside my district." I smiled sheepishly, feeling mildly calmer.

He gave a curt nod of understanding and didn't say much else. Thanks, Draco. You're a big help.

We entered the dining hall. It was actually a lot smaller than I expected, but this was probably the family dining hall, for private dinners. There was an incredible chair at the head of the table. It was velvety and throne-like. I expected Mr. Malfoy to be sitting there, but Draco greeted a man sitting a few chairs away from it as his father. He wore a fancy suit that matched Draco's and had long blonde hair tied back from his head with an elegant black ribbon.

On his left sat the blonde sister who had brought me to my room. She was sitting so still I wondered if she were posing for a painting.

On his right (next to the throne) was Bella. She twitched anxiously and gave me a hungry, delighted look.

Draco sat me directly across from her and sat himself down beside me.

"Miss Nils." Mr. Malfoy inclined his head toward me. "I welcome you to my home. I trust you found your accommodations acceptable?"

I had been inspecting the china dishware and the three sets of silverware provided for me, partly because it was fancy, but mostly so I wouldn't have to meet anyone's eyes. He had a low, gravelly voice that sounded familiar.

"Um. Yes." I answered, trying to smile. "The room was very comfortable. And the bathroom was beautiful. Thank you for the dress, it's gorgeous."

"It becomes you." He responded. "Don't you think so, Draco?"

"Yes, father." Draco responded, keeping his eyes on his plate.

"Thank you." I felt my cheeks warming.

No one said anything for an awkward minute or so. I wanted to ask why there wasn't food on the table, but I didn't want to draw extra attention to myself.

Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat. I guess he was in charge of conversation. "I found it most curious that you were not in possession of a wand, Miss Nils. Was it perhaps left in the doctor's office?"

"Why would I have a wand?" I asked.

"You're a witch." Draco answered, as if this explained it.

I gave Draco a hard look, trying to figure out if he was insulting me. Back home, being called a witch was generally intended to be derogatory. Witches were evil girls that got burned at the stake. I was a _caster_. I manipulated the laws of nature for neutral purposes.

"What did you call me?" I asked him carefully.

"Draco, you are upsetting our honored guest." His father's warning tone caused Draco to flinch. It made me feel bad. I was in a different country with a different culture. They probably had different word connotations.

"No, it's fine." I said hurriedly. "Witch is just… kind of a bad word back home."

This surprised them. "Then what do you get called?"

"Caster."

"Caster?"

I nodded. "I cast spells, thus I am a Caster."

Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "That's the same thing as a witch!"

I pursed my lips and then shrugged. "If you say so."

"Do you do wandless magic then?" Bella spoke up. Her voice had a pretty melodic lilt that clashed horribly with her appearance. I blinked in confusion.

"Well, technically. I don't use a wand at all so everything I do is wand-less." I smiled hesitantly, trying to be good-humored.

I don't know why I was trying so hard to be friendly. Habit, I guess. I figured I should be afraid of these people, but I had no idea what was going on so my defensive policy kicked in. When in doubt, smile. It sounded stupid, but it was ingrained in my system.

"Do you do magic without the aid of some magical tool?" Mr. Malfoy hesitantly asked. Or at least, his eyes were hesitant. A flicker of fear danced behind his eyes, but it was very small. Nevertheless, fear couldn't be hid from me. Was everyone going to be afraid of me?

"Well, sometimes but not usually. Why? Does it matter?"

"Everyone uses a wand." Draco answers. "Only very powerful sorcerers do not, and then only sometimes."

There were many practical reasons why my not having a wand made sense. I felt like it was important to voice them. I didn't want them knowing about my ring until I knew more about my situation, they could take it away. "Where would I keep a wand? I can't very well wander around LA holding a wooden stick."

Draco snorted. "In your pocket." He opened up one of his robes, and sure enough there was an inner pocket where his wand was situated. Well, that explained the funny overcoats everyone had.

"It's too hot in California to wear a coat like that all the time. Wands just don't fit in bathing suits. You have to adapt." I shrugged again, hoping they'd leave the subject alone.

They did segue into other unfamiliar topics. "Are you a pureblood?" Mrs. Malfoy suddenly asked. Her eyes were so similar to Draco's that I felt myself start searching for shadows in them. I clenched my fists and forced the magic down.

"Pureblood?" I almost sighed. Why did they have so many terms I didn't know? "My blood type is A negative…"

Draco snorted. Mrs. Malfoy gave me a wry smile. "Your heritage, dear. Nils isn't one of the old names."

Family history? I knew my family history. "Well, as far as European genealogy goes my family came from just about everywhere, so I'm not really pure anything. Um… when my Dad's line came over on the Mayflower they were English. I guess. But they didn't stick around anywhere for very long. The puritans kicked them out for thinking too much. They were in Rhode Island for a while. Someone ended up crossing the plains for the gold rush and that side of the family has stayed in various parts of California since."

I paused; suddenly wondering if that was indeed the question being asked. Mrs. Malfoy was listening intently with perfectly arched eyebrows. Draco had that superior expression on his face as he waited patiently for me to go on.

"And your mother's side?" Mrs. Malfoy prompted when I didn't go on. She looked too interested in my story.

"Um… they crossed the ocean as pilgrims too. They ended up in Canada though, as fur trappers. Later they worked on canals and then farms and then settled in Alberta. My mom and dad met in college."

"Really? And how did magic factor into this?" Mrs. Malfoy folded her hands under her chin.

I was clearly missing something. "It probably made the crossing easier?"

They chuckled at this. And at me.

"You are not a pureblood witch then." Mrs. Malfoy assessed. I gave her a blank look so she tried to explain. "You can't trace your magic back through the generations."

_Oooh._ That's what she meant. Now I felt silly. "Well… I can easily trace it back to 1830 or so. That's when it became required by the government to declare your aptitude for magic. Before then you'd have to look into other records, which obvious leaves gaps if certain generations couldn't write journals."

"Then you are a pureblood?" This seemed to please her.

"I guess. Does it matter? I mean, we're all descended from the same people anyway." Actually, everyone's ancestral line met at least twice. Once at Noah and another at the beginning, with Adam.

Her jaw dropped. "Of course it matters! It-" She stopped and her eyes widened. I followed her gaze behind me and came face-to-face with the biggest snake I've ever seen.

I jumped in my chair and my mouth fell open. Most of its long body extended out of my field of vision but I had a very clear view of its large head. Sleek green scales reflected the torchlight in an odd yellow. It had one eye trained on me and one on Draco's mother. Its hood hung flat against its neck. Some part of my brain told me that that was a good thing, as cobras normally flared their hoods before striking. A pink tongue slipped in and out of the mouth, tasting the air.

I had thought the Malfoys had an odd fixation with snakes, but I didn't know they actually _had_ one! I must be either more sick than I thought or insane, because this struck me as a pretty awesome thing to have around the house. I started to wonder why I didn't have a snake at home as I stared in awe.

"Dude, that is the biggest snake I've ever seen." I said, excitement pouring from my tone.

I didn't want to look away from it in case it did decide to open its mouth and eat me, but I could imagine their expressions well enough. People expected me to be afraid of poisonous animals, probably because I'm a girl. It wasn't that I was unaware of its deadly poison; I just understood that if I didn't cause a threat it wouldn't feel the need to attack me. So I calmly sat in my chair and accepted this as one of those experiences you only see on TV. Besides, I have two older brothers who I had idolized as a child. Snakes and spiders and creepy crawling creatures were things they thought were cool, and as the dutiful copy-cat youngest sibling I was, I agreed.

I did have the sense to not touch it. Though I really, really wanted to. Just to say I had.

"Do you approve, Miss Nils?" A smooth voice of ice carried across the room. The snake left me to wrap around the throne. The Malfoys hastily stood up from their chairs and bowed their heads. Hesitantly I began to stand, but I had to go much slower. A cold, white hand rested on my shoulder and pushed me back down into the chair. "No, pet. You may stay sitting. I understand you have been unwell, I wouldn't want you to overexert yourself."

I raised my gaze from the long, spindly fingers to the most frightening face I could have imagined. Red eyes leered at me possessively from a skeleton face. The little bit of nose that remained had mere slits for nostrils, like a serpent. The skin was stretched over a bald head, with a spider web of blue veins showing through. His thin lips were drawn into a tender smile.

I found myself unable to find my voice, but he didn't require a response from me.

"Narcissa, Nagini informs me that you have been questioning Miss Nils's power. Can I ask why you are harassing my guest?"

The backs of his fingers came up to rest against my cheek and he stroked downward softly. It was a kind caress, but I wanted to jerk away and hide under the table.

"N-no my lord. I was simply trying to learn more about her." She sounded terrified.

"Was she bothering you, Miss Nils?"

I shook my head and answered in a small voice. "No, no it's fine. She was just curious."

He appraised my face for an agonizing ten seconds and then nodded. He removed his hand from my face, much to my relief, and swept to the throne in a flurry of cloth. I heard Draco expel a worried breath, and I wondered what crisis had just been averted. Everyone sat down after the Dark Lord waved his hand.

House elves began bringing in food and setting it before each person. The Dark Lord and I were served first, then the rest of the group. There was a soft clattering of china as each person began to eat. I waited for Draco to pick up a utensil first so that I could copy him.

"Are you feeling much better, Miss Nils? I was worried about your condition when you were brought to us." His voice could not quite pull off the amiable nature of his words. I was reminded of Daisy Buchanan's melodic voice of money, but in a harsh and twisted form. There was no inviting clinking of coins, just a powerful waver, disturbing the air and drawing all attention to it.

"I-yes, thank you." I stammered. "I'm sorry about that. It just happens sometimes when I'm magically transported." I didn't meet his eyes as I spoke. I didn't want to get caught in his searching red gaze.

"That is most interesting. I was under the impression you were most skilled at apparation." Out of the corner of my eye I watched him lift a goblet to his lips. I hadn't touched mine. It was filled with some sort of red liquid that had been poured by a House Elf from a fancy bottle and I guessed it was wine.

"A year ago, maybe." I responded. "I'm under doctor's orders not to do so though."

"What a shame. To have survived a twelve-hundred mile jump as a thirteen year old, only to have your exception talents stifled."

This surprised me into jerking my head up and meeting his eyes. It hadn't exactly been a widely broadcasted event, and was mostly an accident. "How do you-"

"How do I know about that? You are a fascinating individual Miss Nils. I have kept tabs on you for a few years now." He set the goblet down. "I got word of your gift and made inquiries."

A chill crept up my spine. How had he been spying on me? And why?

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"There is no need to keep a secret here, my dear. Your gift is a miraculous thing and deserves to be utilized to its fullest capacity, not hidden. Your previous teacher did an admirable job considering the circumstances, but I felt you needed more direct instruction. And when I heard you had fallen sick, I felt it my duty to bring you here where you could be taught in the proper way, and have access to more useful medical assistance."

"Wait, what?" I glanced to the other members of the dinner party, hoping for… for something. A confirmation, a denial, something that would help this make more sense. Only Bella would meet my eyes. "How did you hear about me?"

"Do not be alarmed." He stretched his hand out to cover mine. It was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn't. Not at all. "A woman came to me, speaking of a miraculous child with a great power. She had done a reading on a class in America and found you. I like to be aware of great powers; your story attracted my attention. And your plight with sickness concerned me."

The creepy seer woman from sophomore year. She had told him about me. He had been worried that I might be a threat to him so he had kept an eye on my development. That much made sense.

"Why?"

"Miss Nils, I have only your best interests at heart. It is a crime for your potential to be held back as it has been. I know what ails you." That was more than any doctor had said. "I know what you want more than anything. I have the power to grant that. I can heal you." My pulse sped up. I felt the old struggle rise in my heart, the desire to hope but the fear of disappointment shove it back down. Could he really, truly do that? The answer had to be no, but I wanted so desperately to believe it…

"Trust me, Miss Nils. With my help you can reach your full potential. _Trust me._"

I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. It _hurt_ how much I wanted to. His voice was so compelling, so intimately understanding. He knew what I wanted. It was there, deep down. And yet, I couldn't believe in his words.

"I don't know that I can." I withdrew my hand from his and folded it in my lap.

He nodded slowly, not seeming the least bit perturbed. "I understand. This is a lot for one night. Our actions in bringing you to our fold were frightening, and you are still recovering from your episode. I only want you to know what we want for you. I expect you will need time to think and rest. Why doesn't Draco take you to your room? I have things to discuss with his parents and aunt."

I was perfectly fine with being dismissed. I was too close to accepting him. I nodded and withdrew from the table. Draco took my arm and led me from the room.

"Miss Nils?" I stopped at the doorway and glanced back.

"Yes?"

"Remember that faith is a power all its own. Have faith in me and all things can come to be."

It was a perversion of scripture, a glorified truth twisted to his own ends. I nodded and pulled Draco out of the room, hoping he wouldn't notice my trembling hand. Rhetoric was power. He was using a comforting allusion to manipulate me. And I was afraid it might be working.

Narcissa Malfoy

Just a little girl. Just a little, sick girl. Children were fighting this war.

"Will it work, my lord? Will she join our ranks?" Bella asked in her whispery voice, the one she always used in his presence. She worshipped Voldemort. She was not the sister I once loved, the one my heart still cries for.

"She will. She has buried her own ambitions deeply, but they are there. She just needs a little push in the right direction." He smiled. He was pleased. More pleased than he had been in months. Victory was here. In the hands of a child. "Bella, you and I will teach her when she comes around."

Comes around. When she loses everything that makes her live. When he destroys the child she is. Like he destroyed Bella.

"I live to serve my lord." And she meant it. Bella lived only to answer to his call. Not for her family, not her husband, only for that rare moment when Voldemort would pat her on the head and tell her she was a good girl. So like a child, but so horribly distorted.

"Narcissa, you do not seem pleased. Why is that?" His voice lost all feeling as he addressed me. It was useless to deny it, but I schooled my face and held my composure.

"I don't think she has the will power." I responded, taking the chance at insulting his new pet.

"She does. Go tell your son watch over her tonight."

_Draco_. My heart clanged at the thought. How would Draco be when he came out of this? My baby could not possibly come out of this intact. "Yes, my lord."

"Do not fret, Cissy. Miss Nils is all we have been waiting for." Bella assured me.

That is what I am afraid of, dear sister. I nodded, rose from my seat, and let myself be dismissed from my own dining hall.

Hatred flooded my veins, hatred for Voldemort, for this new zealot Bella, for Rebecca Nils. She would destroy us all in the end.

_Ha._

The end. If only there could be comfort in an end.

There could be no satisfying resolution. We would all lose, Miss Nils most especially. She would fall to his will, like Bella had. Like Lucius had. Like I had.

Our hopes rode on the destruction of a seventeen year old girl. A seventeen year old boy was the only hope that might rise against her. Children fought this war, while we looked on and led them astray, because the Dark Lord willed it.

I gave Draco his instructions, ignored the fear in my son's eyes, ignored the pain it jerked in my heart, and went to my bedchamber where I would await the broken presence of my husband and pray for the end, however it may come.

* * *

**I think some of this deserves an explanation. This story in general is a bunch of experiments. ****If they don't work, oh well. I tried. **** This is semi-autobiographical, in that Becky's experiences with being sick are based on my experiences with being horribly sick my freshman year. On one level, this is my attempt at writing about that time period in a (hopefully) fun, fictional way to see if I can actually do it. Call it self-imposed therapy. But I do have a plot outside of 'being sick' so that is a minor storyline solely for my benefit. You are fully entitled, and probably recommended, to ignore it if you wish.**

**I'm also experimenting with various philosophical theories. Because I find exploring strange ideas fascinating, even if I don't actually believe in them. Again, if you don't care (I probably wouldn't if it wasn't my writing) I'm trying to write it in a way that the story itself can be enjoyed for the sake of being a story and not an experiment.  
**

**I appreciate all forms of reviews. Constructive critism about the writing itself is always wonderful. If there was some way I could have red pen markings all over an essay telling me how to improve it and _still_ get full points I would be in heaven. I also appreciate comments on any almost profound ideas, as philosophical discussions are quite fun.**

**Much Love,**

**Elle  
**


	4. Chapter 4: Too Much Talking

Disclaimer: Anything that looks like Harry Potter isn't mine.

* * *

Chapter 4: Too Much Talking

Rebecca

"How far is twelve-hundred miles?"

"What?"

We'd been walking in tense silence for several minutes when he spoke up. It took me a second to pull myself from my thoughts and back to the situation at hand. His question seemed so random that I didn't understand what he was asking at first.

"How far is twelve-hundred miles in the metric system?" Draco asked again, this time with a slight clarification. It was finally _my _turn to give someone the how-dumb-are-you look. Take that blondie.

But seriously, of all the things that had been said at dinner, he was curious about the standard to metric unit conversion?

"I don't know. A lot. A mile's about a kilometer and a half or something. I think. Just think the difference from Southern California to the middle of Canada. Which is what I did." Was this the only thing that stuck out in that boy's mind? I mean, really?

"Wow. You must be…really powerful."

Oh. Maybe I was being too hard on him. I suppose having the capability of crossing countries in the blink of an eye was quite the achievement, and would appear intimidating to the untrained eye.

"It's not like that. It was incredibly dangerous. I got my free practice license revoked for six months for irresponsible activities. It sucked."

"Free practice license?"

I nodded. "You have to have a license to practice magic outside of the protected zones. You usually get it when you hit middle school."

"Middle school?" Poor Mr. Private Tutor, no middle school experience.

"Sixth, seventh, and eighth grades." I wasn't sure if he even knew about the grade system so I went on. "You're usually about twelve in sixth grade and turning fourteen in eighth."

He nodded like he understood but didn't meet my eyes. That was fine. I didn't want to meet his eyes either.

"Why did you apparate to Canada?"

I shrugged and felt my cheeks heating up. I had loved when people stopped talking about this particular incident. My class was intimidated by it and tried to cover their fear by laughing about my revoked privileges. Teachers assumed I had been holding back on them and kept trying to get me to do giant magicky things. No one quite understood that what had happened was a fluke, and a really lucky one. "I didn't do it on purpose."

He snorted. "How do you _accidently_ apparate to Canada?"

I sighed. I suppose this was a fairly normal conversation, which beat the one at dinner. I wanted to tell him exactly what had happened that day.

That I had a migraine and was nauseas and had just received the news that a malignant tumor might be the cause of my sickness. That there had been several boys harassing me, that I had just failed a math test because I had missed nearly a week of school, and that the only thought in my head was that I just wanted to get _away_. And so when my turn for apparation (what we called porting at home) I had stormed up to the front of the classroom and with only the word _Away_ in my head I had spun on my heal and ended up on the snow-covered roof of my Aunt Mary. I then proceeded to tumble off said roof to land in the snow-covered bushes where I lost consciousness.

But that was way too much information for someone I had just met.

"When you don't have a specific destination in mind you never know where you'll end up. I'm just lucky my whole body came with me." I answered instead.

"You didn't have a place in mind? That's stupid. Any first year knows not to blindly apparate."

I'm not good at mean-spirited, biting retorts. Generally I just glare at people. But Draco's shoulders had straightened out a bit and he held his head slightly higher. Apparently my lack of intellect made him feel less… weak? Less not-quite-as-powerful-as-me? Something like that.

We reached my room/jail cell so I let it go. If he felt better about himself, then good for him.

Draco opened the door for me and then stood awkwardly in the doorway. A nightgown was folded at the foot of the bed and a wash stand had been set up for me.

After a minute he coughed and shifted his foot around. "Well, good night Miss Nils." He moved to close the door.

"Rebecca."

Pause. "What?"

"You can call me Rebecca. It is my name."

He smirked lightly. "Good night, Miss Nils." Then he closed the door. I heard the _snick_ of a lock fitting into place.

With nothing else to do I changed into the nightgown and washed my face. I glanced around to room for some sort of spy. I was alone. I lowered myself to my knees, bowed my head, and laced my fingers together.

Moisture formed at my eyes as I prayed, but it didn't spill over into tears.

I felt no soft spirit, no comforting presence in my heart. I hadn't in months. But I prayed every night, hoping that once it would come. Hoping that some night I would be forgiven and my Father in Heaven would let me back into his flock.

"Though I walk through the shadow of darkness…" I whispered softly. My gaze lifted upward, where they told me heaven was. Where I wouldn't be. "I will not fear, for the lord my God is with me."

I was combining scriptures. I didn't have them memorized. But I hoped that didn't matter. He knew what was in my heart.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

I climbed into bed.

**Nicolette**

"Don't talk about her like that!" I yelled. Everyone turned to look at me. We were all sitting at some big long table in some secret hideout of some secret organization that fought against the people who had kidnapped Becky. The Order of the Phoenix had called an emergency meeting and I was a special guest that they didn't really want there. Mostly because I kept interrupting people. But this was serious.

"Peggan, please keep your mouth shut for five minutes. This is a serious situation. I understand you have a close relationship with Miss Nils, but we have to look at her as a threat." He was an oily-haired tall guy with a bird-like nose and an I'm-better-than-you disposition. His name was Severus Snape and he was the Order's spy among the Death Eater ranks. And he clearly didn't like me.

"She's not a threat! You don't know Becky. She's the president of our Sunday School. She's not going to help them do anything."

Snape stared down his nose at me. I didn't back down. "Becky is the sweetest, most caring person in the world. She feels bad about squishing ants!"

"I'm sure she does." I was pretty sure he wasn't. "But the Dark Lord controls her situation now. He will make it seem like we are the threat, she won't know about what's really going on until it's too late."

"So you're saying he's going to brainwash her?" Adam asked.

"Something to that effect, yes." Snape answered with a sneer. He was too good for common words like brainwashing.

"Well, can't you do something to stop him? Aren't you the big spy person?"

Snape sighed and rubbed his temple. "I cannot endanger my position. I will do my best, but we need a better plan."

"You know where she is though! Walk in, pick her up, and take her out!" I stood up. "It isn't that hard!"

He heaved a long sigh. "It isn't that simple. There will always be a guard on her. Your friend is the Dark Lord's new favorite pet. She can't just be taken out. Besides, it is questionable whether she will want to be taken out."

"Why wouldn't she want to leave? Becky's not stupid!"

"Maybe, maybe not. But she is sick and confused. The Dark Lord will provide safety and comfort. When he is finished her only concern will be pleasing him. We've been over this. We need to assume she has already turned to his side and act accordingly."

How dare he talk about my best friend like that! Like she was some sort of Darth Vader! Becky wasn't going to just turn over to the dark side!

"Or you could quit being a freaking coward and just go in and save her and save yourself a lot of trouble!"

The conversation continued like this for a while, my voice growing steadily louder as I staunchly defended my friend's integrity. Becky had stood by me for seventeen years. She would never let me down. She would never let someone talk about me like I was some sort of tool of the enemy.

To be honest I could see where he was coming from. If Becky did do the impossible and go evil, it would be like the Cold War swallowing World War III and exploding. But I knew Becky and they didn't. She wouldn't do that, and I was sick of them talking like it was inevitable. That's all these English people did. They _talked_ and they _discussed._ They never _do_ anything! They'd been sitting here for hours talking about what a lost cause this is. And I was sick of it. So I started yelling.

They kicked me out.

Whatever. They're all idiots anyway.

I thumped down a little too hard on the bed they had graciously allowed me to use. It was moth-eaten and it smelled like old feet. The room was small and made me claustrophobic but I was going to sit in here until they wised up and came to ask for my opinion. That would show them.

Or it would just make me look immature.

Whatever.

I snatched up Becky's backpack and started searching through it for the soda I knew she kept in there for me.

Becky's backpack has been nicknamed the Bag of Wonders for good reason. She is one of those 'always prepared' kind of people. The type that carries three days worth of food on the off chance that a rabid bear traps her and five other people in a cabin in the woods and they're stuck there until help comes.

No joke. It's in there.

I had just found the can when there was a knock at the door. I groaned loudly. "What now!?"

The door creaked open. I hate that door. Is it so hard to spray some WD-40? I started searching Becky's bag for some.

Three people stepped into the room. They made the space rather cramped. I glared up at them. "Can I help you?"

A bushy haired girl was trying to give me a friendly smile. I didn't buy it. Next to her stood a freakishly tall red-headed boy. He looked nervous. Good. Coming behind them, and closing the creaking door of doom, was a dark, shaggy-haired boy. He needed a haircut. Or some gel. Or both.

I pulled out my MP3 player and placed in the right ear phone into its proper position. Then I waited for them to say something.

"Hi. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasley and…Harry Potter." Nice, boys. Let the girl talk for you. Way to be manly.

Wait, Harry Potter. I knew that name. He came up a lot in the meeting.

I spun the dial on the music player to turn it louder. "Can I help you?" They looked at each other.

"Well, we were hoping so." Harry was a good name for that kid. Very applicable. "We were wondering if you could tell us about your friend."

They were about my age. I think I made them nervous. Excellent. I chose not to respond. Let them show me how much they wanted to know about Becky. It didn't take long.

"Are you going to tell us?" Ron asked, looking uncomfortable.

"I wasn't planning on it, no." I smiled sweetly at him and then turned my attention back to the IPod.

Hermione gasped. What kind of name was Hermione anyway? I wasn't even sure how to pronounce it.

"What?" I rolled my eyes. "It's not like you really care."

"Voldemort is going to use her to take over England, of course we care!" Harry answered, looking affronted. Ron and Hermione flinched when Harry said the name. I snorted.

"Well, old Voldie can have England." My eyes flashed as I glared up at them. "But he has Becky now, and she needs help. And since it doesn't seem like any of you want to help _her_ I'm not going to help _you_. Clear? Good." I started scrolling through my playlists for something a little louder. Cello metal was sounding good now.

Ron's face colored and his fists clenched. Harry glared at me. Hermione sighed and held up a hand to signal them to stay back. I was disappointed. A fist fight sounded good now too. I could swing the backpack of wonders. It would probably give them a concussion.

She stepped forward and hesitantly sat next to me. "I'm sorry about your friend." She said sincerely. "We really do want to help."

If she tried to hug me I'd bite her.

"Yeah." I answered. "Sure."

It was quiet for a moment, and then a guitar began to play. Literally.

In a second Hermione was off the bed and all three teenagers were brandishing wooden sticks and pointing them at Becky's bag. The front pocket was buzzing. I could see lights flashing through the fabric.

I unzipped the pocket and pulled out the noisy cell phone. It was an old Nokia, from the dawn of the flip phone. Becky had had to pick between medical bills and a fancy phone.

I flipped it open.

_Incoming call… Professor Zinnober_

I felt the slight rise of panic that always comes when a teacher contacts you, no matter what you have or haven't done. It faded though and I hit the green button and placed it near my ear.

"ZINNY!"I yelled into the receiver. "I've missed you!"

I good great pleasure in the shocked looks the people in my immediate vicinity gave me.

_"Good God, Nikki. I'm not that old. You don't need to yell. Why are you answering Rebecca's phone?"_

He loves me. He really does. But it was serious time now.

"Because she left it in her backpack."

_"I need to talk to her. Is she there?"_

I sighed. "Professor?"

"_What happened?_"

He's a smart teacher. He's taught our delinquent class for too long not to pick up on subtle trouble nuances. I only ever use his title when it's important. I give a furtive look at the three eavesdroppers. "Hold on. Can I call you back in a second?"

"_Nikki! What happened?"_

"Just one second!" I hung up.

"Who was that?" Harry asked. "This is a top secret area, you can't use phones here. They can be tapped…"

"That's a phone!? Where's the cord?" Ron stared at it in wonder.

"In the 80's." I gave him a disbelieving look. "It's a cell phone; it's supposed to be cordless."

"It doesn't matter. Who was that?"

"It's my Innovative Casting and Specialization teacher. He gives Becky special lessons on the side for her extra powers. If anyone can help her, it's him. Now if you'll excuse me." I opened the door and indicated for them to leave.

Hermione shook her head. "We have to make sure you aren't leaking secrets out."

"How would you stop me even if you're listening?" I asked, glaring.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Harry spoke first.

"Look, we just want to help. You and your friends got caught up in our war, and we want to help get you back out. Voldemort is really after me, okay? He's using your friend to get to me. I'm sorry, and I'll do anything I can to help you."

Well, he seemed sincere. "This is all your fault?"

Harry nodded miserably.

"'Kay. Well, then once Becky's home safe I'm going to kill you. Keep quiet." I found Zinny's number again and dialed it.

"_Nikki?"_

"Hey. I've got a couple of eavesdroppers but they appear to be friends."

"_What's going on?"_

I took a deep, preparatory breath and then let it all out. "We went to the doctor's office and Becky got kidnapped and then the doctor ported me and Adam to this garden where we got taken into this house and they gave us a bunch of tea and then we went to this safe house and they're talking about Becky being the Mistress of Dreams and she's being held by some evil guy named Voldemort who has this vendetta against nonmagical people and is trying to take over England and commit genocide and create a perfect race and he's going to try and use Becky to help him and I'm stuck here in this secret house where they won't let me do anything. And they're all convinced that Becky's going to turn into an evil menace who will destroy life as they now it."

I inhaled deeply.

There was a long pause at the other end. I thought for a second he hadn't heard me. I wasn't looking forward to repeating myself.

"_Tell me everything_."

So I did. I told him everything that had happened as best as I could remember it. All that had been said in the meeting room right down to my outburst.

"_Are you saying that a murderer has taken Rebecca and is planning on using her powers to further his hostile takeover plans?"_

"Yeah. He's going to brain wash her. I don't think it'll work though. Becky's too good."

There was another long pause.

"_What do you know about this guy?"_

"He'll try and convince her to help him."

"_Worst case scenario?"_

"I guess Becky does what he asks and uses her powers against everyone in England." I noticed that Zinny was starting to say much the same things as Snape had and I started to feel annoyed. "Zinny, Becky's never going to do that."

"_Intentionally, no. Becky would never do something like that. She is terrified of hurting people with her powers. But hypothetically, what if he convinced her she was saving something? Being a defender of good, maybe?"_

I paused. I hadn't thought of that.

"Evil wears a pretty bow." I whispered, actually quoting something Becky had said one time.

"_Exactly. If this Voldemort is smart, he's not just going to ask her to join him. He's going to convince her that he's doing something else. He's going to manipulate her."_

This was bad. This was so bad.

"_Nikki, have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"_

"Yeah. Hostages fall in love with their captors." I watched plenty of spy and cop shows on TV.

"_Not quite. It's absolute loyalty to a captor, based on the assumption that doing what the want is the safest and best course. The idea of doing something different, something like escaping, doesn't even occur to a person in that state. It's irrational, it makes no sense. But Becky's sick, and she's going to be scared and confused. I don't know that this Snape guy wasn't wrong. If this guy plays his cards right, Becky will fall right into it. You know her better than anyone. You know it can happen."_

I did. I knew it, but I didn't want to admit it. "We've got to get her out of there!"

"_Nikki, calm down. We have to be logical here. I have an idea, but it's dangerous. Do you remember our unit on lucid dreaming as a form of communication?"_

I paused, remembering that unit all too vividly. "You told us never to go into Becky's mind unless she is fully aware."

"_You've got a bunch of well-trained castors with you, Nikki, use them as anchors. Becky needs you now. I'd do it, but I'm in California now. I'm going to find the first portal I can over there, but you need to get in her head before he does. Can you do it?"_

I hesitated. Entering Becky's dreams was a gamble. She had horrible, horrible nightmares sometimes. If I popped into one of those I could die. But Becky was my best friend. Practically my sister. She had been there for everything. I set my jaw and nodded assertively, though only Harry, Hermione, and Ron could see it.

"I'll do it."

"_Good. I'll walk you through the steps. Do you have a pad of paper?"_

I found one in Becky's bag. "Ready."

"_Then here's what you do."_

_

* * *

_

That was kind of boring. I had other things planned for this chapter, but there was too much extra stuff and it was getting long and it was late so I had to split it. The next one will be more interesting. I promise.

Review?


	5. Chapter 5: Valley of Death

Disclaimer: Whatever isn't mine isn't mine.

Some of this may be confusing. Dreams are confusing. That's just the way it is.

* * *

Chapter 5: The Valley of Death

Draco

It's not fair. Stupid girl. She's just born with all that power. She didn't work for it! She didn't spend her entire school year trying to kill someone. She's never had to watch what she says because her house guest might kill everyone she cares about. She wasn't here when the Dark Lord came in and took over.

And where does she get off being all polite and smiley? She's the Dark Lord's new pet! She should be miserable and terrified! Her very soul should be quaking in fear! She should be constrained to bows and muted nods! She should…

…she should be like me.

"Watch her. It is your responsibility to keep her healthy and happy. You know what could happen otherwise." A kiss on the cheek, a lingering hand on the shoulder, and she was gone. Thanks mother. Thanks a lot.

Maybe that isn't fair. It's not my mother's fault exactly. Maybe indirectly. If she had father had never gotten involved in this in the beginning this wouldn't be happening now. But her hands are just as tied as mine. My mother had tried to stand up before, to defend me. All she got was a curse mark all down her back. The ancient house of Black and the Most Honored house of Malfoy weren't what they had once been. Noble, powerful, respected. Ha. We're just dogs now.

Guard the door little Draco, make sure she doesn't go wandering. Make sure she has enough pillows, Drakie dear. I kicked the wall next to her door.

Ouch.

I sucked a breath in through clenched teeth and rubbed my newly bruised toe. "Stupid wall. Stupid girl."

It wasn't her fault either really, but I wanted to blame her. I thought she deserved to be blamed. For everything. And if she was to blame, then I could hate her. Because hate was easier to feel than fear and Draco Malfoy would not fear a little blonde girl. No matter what part of hell she had spawned from.

Hate was easy. Hate made things easier. Hate was real.

I opened her door slowly, keeping it quiet with my wand. I could see her as a curled lump under a blanket, her hair splayed about along the pillow. Moonlight slid through the curtains and made her pale face look angelic, in a ghost-like way. But then, what was an angel but someone who had died? Wasn't an angel just a glorified ghost? I snorted and sat on the stool.

"You're just another demon, Miss Rebecca Nils." I told her sleeping body. I took a seat against the wall and sighed. It was my job to stay with her. "Draco Malfoy, glorified baby sitter." I muttered.

She rolled over, and then shifted back. She was probably dreaming. I wondered what vision the Mistress of Dreams met with at night. Did she have nightmares?

"Don't leave me…"

I jumped, and then settled back down. She talked in her sleep. What was with chosen people and talking in their sleep? Bloody Potter was always screaming when he fell asleep in class.

My mood soured further at thoughts of _that_ little saint. Everyone loved Harry Potter. Everyone wanted to be his friend. And for what? For being a lucky baby? He wasn't anything special! Always preaching about friendship and love… None of that helps you in the end.

New rule. Hate everyone.

"Get off…"

"Especially _you_." I replied with a glare. She didn't respond.

**Nicolette**

"We should tell someone about this." Hermione said worriedly.

I sighed. "No. The only adult down there I trust is Adam and he'll just want to do it himself."

"Why shouldn't he do it then? Wouldn't it be easier for a blood relative to connect with her?"

"Connecting to Becky isn't the problem. I can do that fine. It's just a matter of getting out. Which is what I need you and Freckles here for."

"But shouldn't someone with more experience do this?"

I rolled my eyes. "Adam's a concrete inspector. How much experience do you think he has with breaking into dream world?" My tone was more than a little sarcastic.

She frowned at me. "He's her brother. Wouldn't she recognize him better?"

"He lives in Virginia. He hasn't been around much recently. I'm her best friend, she'll recognize me more than anyone else. And besides." Here I got really quiet. "Adam doesn't need to see what his baby sister dreams about."

Everyone looked at me.

"What? She just has weird dreams, okay?" I went back to my loud, snarky self. "She wouldn't want him to do it."

"I still don't exactly get what we're doing." Harry put in; looking up from the figures he was drawing in chalk on my floor.

"You aren't doing anything." I told him. "Finish the circle."

He glared at me. "I don't see why not."

"Harry, if V-Voldemort is watching for something magical activity in her brain he'll recognize you instantly. He might even notice it from your end." Hermione explained. I like her sometimes.

He sighed in defeat. He knew it was true.

"What are you going to do?" Ron asked me. He was drawing as well. Hermione was directing the two boys. Zinny had been very clear about how I was to go about getting into Becky's head. Specifically, old-school summoning style. With the chalk circle and the candles and everything.

"I'm going to enter her dreams and give her a message. Then I'm going to signal you and Hermione to pull me back to my body through the runes you're drawing around me now." I made it sound really simple. I think Hermione was the only one who really understood how complicated this spell was, but she wasn't letting on either.

For all they annoyed me, the trio was fairly useful. They seemed to like doing things. And if I could get them to do things in the direction I needed them, all the better.

I guess they were alright as people too.

Ron and Harry completed the circle around me and began lighting candles. I set my ring in my cupped hands and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to block out my nervousness. If this went wrong I could die. Entering another's dreams was dangerous. If something happened to your mind while it was in someone else's you didn't just go back to your body in one piece. If you died you were really dead.

Becky had a tendency to have very vivid, very bloody dreams.

But she also had good dreams, where ponies fly around and bring you gumdrops.

So I had about a fifty-fifty shot at landing in a fun dream instead of a nightmare. I was pretty sure Becky's subconscious would try to save me. Good enough odds, right?

They were in position. Harry was guarding the door. We were ready.

"Alright. Remember, if at any time the runes turn red, drag me back immediately."

"How long do you think this will take?" Harry asked.

"Depends on whether or not she's asleep. Could be ten minutes, could be an hour." It was after midnight. Becky wasn't much of a late-nighter, so I felt fairly confident that she would be asleep by now. "If anyone comes to ask what we're doing, make sure to get rid of them."

He nodded.

I nodded back and shut my eyes. _Don't kill me Becky._ Was my last thought before I started the chant Professor Zinnober had taught me.

Draco

She was thrashing about so wildly I thought she was having a seizure. I rushed to her side and found her with a coating of sweat. She was whimpering, pleading unintelligibly. One violent jerk slammed her fist against the headboard. It came away bleeding.

An icy fear stopped my heart. When the Dark Lord saw that… Panicking I grabbed her arms to restrain her, fighting with all my might to keep her from hurting herself. He would kill me, he would torture my parents. She could not be hurt!

"Wake up! Rebecca, wake up!"

She struggled against me. With a sudden heave she launched me over the bed and into…

A war zone.

People were dying. Fires rose up in the hills, smoke blocked out the sun and left the world under an orange lens. Red rivers raced down the streets in raging fury, taking animals and people and houses alike in its path. Black winged creatures rose from volcanoes and snatched up people to carry them away.

Draco started to run. He ran as fast as he could, but arms were breaking free form the ground and grabbing at his clothes. One got a fistful of his long hair and ripped it out.

Wait… long hair? Draco kept his hair short. What was this?

Suddenly he understood. He was in Rebecca's dream. He was _her_.

Understanding assaulted Draco's sensibilities. They wanted to kill her. They were going to eat her. Everyone had left. They abandoned her. She was alone. Alone and they wanted to kill her.

Draco, no Rebecca, opened the door to her house and slammed it behind her. She pelted up the stairs and hid in the hallway, behind a shelf of books.

She was going to _die._ Draco wasn't going to die with her.

Through sheer willpower, Draco dragged his mind away from hers. He fell over the bed and landed on the ground in a heap.

I gasped and scrambled to my feet as far from her as I could get. The back of my legs found the window seat and buckled. I shook as I leaned against the cold glass panes. I could still feel the sting where hair had been ripped from my skull. The hard wood of my wand dug into my palm where I was clutching it too tightly. I made myself as small as possible and waited for her to wake up on her own.

Nicolette

The effect was like having my head ripped off, bashed against a wall of spikes, thrown into the Arctic Ocean, fished out with an ice pick, and then sewed back on with barbed wire.

…Or so I imagined that would feel like.

I was in Becky's house. Or I would be if Becky's house had boarded up windows and steel plated walls. The same purple carpet was on the floor though. The same plush couch sat against the window and the family painting hung above the piano. Photos of each child as a baby and an adult sat on top. The China cabinet was on its side though, and the computer seemed like it had shorted out.

"Becky?" I called.

She appeared form nowhere, tackling me to the ground.

"Nikki! Shut up! They'll hear you!" She hissed in my ear. I tried to remember Zinny's advice.

_She won't have prepared for a direct communication so you'll enter into whatever dream her subconscious has concocted. Play along with whatever is going on in the dream. Don't tell her that it isn't real. If it occurs to her that she's asleep the dream will end and the communication will end._

"Sorry, I didn't realize they were nearby." I said.

She nodded and passed me a rocket launcher. I gingerly took it.

"Adam left that. Everyone else left." She whispered as she peeked through the wooden boards for the enemy.

_If she tells you everyone is gone, assume something bad is about to happen. When we spoke of her nightmares, she said someone always abandons her to some horrible fate. If this is the case, you need to change the dream. Don't make her aware of the dream though._

"No, they're waiting for you. They sent me to get you." I didn't want to meet Becky's horrible fate.

She glanced back at me in confusion. "I thought they were scared of the shadow man. I couldn't run with them, so they left."

That made sense. Becky's sickness wouldn't let her run. I didn't know what the shadow man was, but I didn't want to meet him.

"We need to get to the car. Everyone at-Um, they're at the school."

The scenery started to shift and suddenly we were in an old van. Becky was at the steering wheel and we were careening down the highway. Gigantic wolves ran beside us, occasionally leaping for us and ramming the side.

I screamed as one grabbed hold of the door with its jaws. The window was open for some reason. The entire right half the frame ripped off of the van. The jagged edges of the metal sliced into the wolf's mouth and blood poured out in an impossible gushing river.

I stared in horror as other wolves were born in the sea of red, rising up and howling to an orange moon.

"Becky!" I yelled. "I don't want to be eaten!"

_Change the dream to something close to what you need her to do._

"Becky, we need to go to England! It's safe there!"

"England?" We were at the church. Becky boarded up the windows and dragged me behind the pulpit. She shook her head. "Not safe in England. Queen Mary's killing all the Protestants."

We were in a market square, a guillotine was set up and chopping the heads off of Aristocrats. If Becky were awake she would be ashamed of her lack of historical congruity. "This is France." I told her dryly.

She shook her head, then dragged me behind a building. "Hush, they'll find us."

Behind the building was a castle. I followed her into it.

I had had enough of scene changes.

"Becky, we're safe here!"

"No! No where's safe! They're everywhere!" She sent me panicked eyes. "They'll come get you, and they'll take your skin off and devour your heart!" She grabbed my shoulders and began shaking them. "They _eat _you! Bit by bit! It's part of the cleansing ritual!"

"No, no they already did that."

Confusion entered her blue eyes and the castle walls became fuzzy. "What?"

"They already did the cleansing ritual. It's safe now." I smiled. "In fact it's time for tea!"

Her nose crinkled. "I don't like tea."

I had stopped the progression of the dream and now it was fading. She would wake up soon. I scrambled to get her the message. "Becky, listen to me. It's very important. Tea is bad."

She nodded. "Tea is bad."

"Right. The English drink tea. The English are bad." It was an awful syllogism but it would have to do. "The English people kidnapped you! They're bad! Don't fall for Stockholm Syndrome!"

The earth below me began to shake.

I glanced down to see a crack forming and separating us. She stared at me with wide eyes. "Nikki, don't leave me!"

The castle ceiling cracked apart, chunks of stone fell around me.

"Becky! Stockholm Syndrome! Don't fall for it! Bad people!" I yelled over the earthquake's noise and the widening chasm. The shaking knocked me to the ground. Something fell and smashed into my legs. I screamed.

"NIKKI!" Becky screamed. She tried to jump across the gap in the floor to reach me. Gigantic bats exploded from the chasm and snatched her out of the air. She struggled with them. I tried to get up to help her, but I felt the anchors locking on my spirit and dragging me out of the dream.

Becky watched me disappear. She saw me leave her to the winged monsters that were ripping the skin from her arms. She thought I was abandoning her.

I watched her betrayed eyes fill with tears before I was slammed back into my body.

I didn't realize I was crying until someone handed me a handkerchief.

Draco

Rebecca tossed around for several more seconds before suddenly jerking upright. Her hands reached for something that wasn't there and she tumbled off the bed in a mess of tangled blankets.

I could see the panic fade from her eyes as she remembered where she was. Shakily she removed the blankets from her legs and stood up. Her eyes found me and she jumped and fell back against the bed.

"W-Who are you?" She squinted at me. "Draco? You scared me. What are you doing in here?"

_She _was scared of _me_? No way, I wasn't going to take that.

"What the hell was that!?" I yelled. "You go all seizure on me and then suddenly I'm in some bloody massacre!?"

Rebecca looked startled, then understanding lit up her face, then her shoulders slumped. "You went into my dream, didn't you?"

"I didn't do it on purpose! What kind of dream was that!?"

She didn't look at me as she spoke. "An awful one. I'm so sorry."

"_Sorry? _I could have died in there!" I thought I was being a little over dramatic, but I was seriously freaked out. Her response didn't help.

"I know." She whispered softly. She pulled her legs up behind her and sighed. "I'm sorry. If I had known you'd be in here I would have warned you." Her voice cracked at the end, but she tried to keep talking. "You weren't hurt…were you?"

I rubbed the back of my head. "Something tried to pull my hair out."

I pointed my wand at a torch and lit it. In the light I could see the tears sliding down her cheeks, her blood hand seeping into the mattress. The panic I had felt started to dissipate as the fire chased the nightmare away and logic replaced fear.

"You're bleeding." I muttered.

She glanced down at her hand in surprise. "Oh."

"L-let me help you." I didn't want to touch her again. Ever. But I couldn't let anyone see that she'd been hurt.

She cradled it against her knee. "You don't have to do that."

My hands trembled as I moved to sit next to her. I pointed my wand at her knuckles and began closing the skin.

The monster kept her gaze resolutely on the floor.

I was almost done when her soft, wavering voice broke the silence. "What part were you in?"

"I don't know. Things were trying to grab you from the ground and then you ran into a house." I didn't mention that I had been her at the time.

She nodded, still refusing to look up. That was fine by me. I didn't want to look at her either. "Just the beginning then."

_Beginning!?_ How much more could there have been_!?_

I finished with her hand and got away as fast as I could.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me." I growled.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." She whispered. "Please don't—" She cut off. "I'm so, so sorry."

Her head came up and I met her eyes. They were shining with tears, shining with pain and remorse. Fear swam in blue and mixed with hurt. Guilt showed as gray inside the swirling blue. The last time I had seen such agony in someone's eyes it had been my father's as he watched his wife being tortured and branded.

I almost heard my heart crack. She looked so darn pitiful.

I still felt my seething hate for her, for her smiles and her tears and her pitiful guilty grief, but it shifted somehow.

I couldn't believe my own words as I said them. "It's okay."

Any amount of control she had vanished. She sobbed and shook her head. "No, it's not. It's not okay!"

And it wasn't. So I lifted the blankets back onto the bed and sat down next to her. She cried until exhaustion claimed her consciousness and I silently sat next to her, wishing I could cry too.

Nicolette

"Did it work?" Harry asked when I calmed down. I shrugged.

"We can only hope." I answered, feeling lost. I reached into Becky's pack and pulled out a bible. "Hope and pray."

No one responded, because there was nothing else to say. Either Becky remembered my words or not. Somehow I didn't think she would. She would only remember me leaving. And that probably helped their cause.

I thanked them for their help and then the trio left the room for their own beds, or perhaps to plan something new together.

I curled up against my pillow, but sleep would not come to me.

"Yea _though I walk through the valley of death_, I will fear no evil: for _Thou_ art with me." I whispered to myself. "Lord, be with Rebecca. Don't leave her alone. Please."

* * *

I was annoyed that this scene wasn't in chapter 4 like it should have been, so I had to write it up. I'm now glad it ended up in a separate chapter.

Review?


	6. Chapter 6: Do You Believe in Hope?

Chapter 6: Do you believe in Hope?

Draco

I woke up lying horizontally across her bed. Someone had placed a blanket across my shoulders. I pushed it off and glanced around the room.

Rebecca was sitting on the window seat blankly staring at the rising sun. Its rays had just barely begun to appear over the horizon and the sky was a pale lavender. She had her knees pulled up to her chest. She glanced over when I sat up.

"Morning." She told me softly. Her voice had a slight croak to it—an effect of crying for so long the night before.

She must have put the blanket on me. It was strangely nice of her. But I wasn't about to say something. Draco Malfoy did not thank people for treating him like a baby.

But I did know how to be polite. "Good morning." I responded, wondering if I should ask how she had slept but it was a stupid question. Badly was the most likely answer.

A smirk crossed her face. "That remains to be seen." I raised my eyebrows and she turned her gaze back to the sunrise. "Sorry. It's something my brother always says. It's true though. Hard to tell if the morning is going to be good or not."

For some reason I appreciated this realistic attitude. Maybe because it wasn't the usual, 'every morning is a bright new day' crap that the good guys were always spouting.

"Most mornings aren't that great." I muttered as I leaned against the wall next to her.

Oddly enough, this made her smile.

"That depends entirely upon how you look at it." She gestured at the sunrise. "From a purely figurative point of view, mornings are amazing. The sunrise represents new beginnings, new hope."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I did not need that happiness propaganda this early in the morning. She nodded, apparently agreeing with my sentiment.

"Realistically though, the sunrise just means the start of the day. It is entirely neutral, signaling neither good nor bad. It rises on evil and good alike." She flicked her eyes back to me, probably attempting to gauge my response.

I was just confused. What was she trying to say, that the sun was some great equalizer? That was stupid. But I'd play along. According to the schedule I had been given, we didn't need to be up for another couple hours anyway.

"What do you think of the sunrise?" I asked her.

She frowned and looked away. "I'm afraid I'm a little cynical about it."

"Have you met my family?" I asked sarcastically. "Cynical should be my middle name, it's so much a part of my life."

Her blue eyes bored into mine and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I remembered well what the Dark Lord had said about her when he first presented his new plan.

_She has the power to look into your soul and see your deepest desires and fears. With one look she can know you better than you know yourself, we can use that power. _

I shivered involuntarily and she looked away. "Just tell me what you think." I responded roughly. I wasn't afraid of what she had to say, even if I was a little unnerved by her very existence.

Rebecca was silent for a moment. She tried to start speaking a few times, opening her mouth and then closing it again. Finally she sighed and just started talking. "I have Irlen Syndrome. It's like an eye condition. It's a bit complicated, but it has a lot to do with light. It's an issue with some of my optical nerves, they aren't in sync." I nodded to show I was following what she was saying and she went on. "You know how vision is really like a thousand pictures your eyes take?"

I didn't know that but I wasn't going to say so. "Yeah."

"Well, really simply put, because my nerves aren't in sync those get kind of messed up. Like, my depth perception is off and I see what's called distortions. So, things that aren't moving look like they are, some things are out of focus, things blur. That sort of thing. Mostly the distortions are on paper. So like, the print in books will do strange things. Like, the black letters will blur together or move around and the white spaces will get bigger and stuff."

"So what does that have to do with the sunrise?"

"I said it has to do with light. Florescent lighting's the worst, but that doesn't apply here. Anyway my eyes work really hard to try and keep things in focus and it gives me a headache. The sun is better than florescent lighting, but it's still painful. So I associate the sunrise with pain." She put her head down on her knees. "It's not so bad when I wake up before the sun does, like right now. It's kind of pretty now. But if it's more up and the light is coming in from the window, I wake up with a headache."

"So?" It seemed like a valid reason to dislike the sun to me. Nobody liked pain.

"So… most people don't get that. It's hard to separate its age-old symbolism from the thing itself. Everyone loves the sunrise on some level, even me. When I say I don't like the sunrise people think that means I don't believe in what it represents, that I think hope is something stupid. It's like…" She struggled to find an accurate comparison and failed. "It's just the association people have. You say you don't like the sunrise and you're saying you don't like hope and love and everything."

"That's stupid." I responded scornfully. It was easy to see how much that bothered her. It kind of bothered me too.

"It is stupid! It's equivocating and that's a fallacy!" Her eyes blazed suddenly with conviction. I could feel the frustration rolling off her shoulders as she remembered, but it shifted away as she sighed. "But I can understand why. Think about it. Goodness is always compared to light. The Light of Christ, that sort of thing. I say that on a literal level, light is painful and I don't like it, but people don't think logically and they think it means that I don't like everything that goes with light."

I thought about that. I suppose if you spend all your time hearing about how great the light is, and then you say you prefer to be in the dark, people would consider you to _be_ the dark. How ironic, the girl who hates light is the queen of nightmares.

I hadn't said anything for a bit so I guess she felt the need to fill the silence by continuing her explanation. "It's not like that though. I love Christ. I love _The Light. _ Just not, like, light. You know?"

"Well, you won't find either here." I glanced out the window again. The sky was turning a brighter pink.

This time when she looked at me I could see her face better. Heavy dark circles outlined her eyes. They were bloodshot, with harsh red lines running from her irises. Freckles were scattered across her nose. They looked odd against her pale skin, more like a splatter of dirt than the kiss of the sun. Her skin was tight against her cheekbones. She would have been pretty if she didn't look so sickly.

"The light of Christ is in everyone." Was her whispered reply. I wondered if she was just repeated something she had learned in church. Or if she was really just saying it for her own benefit. "Sometimes it's just a little dimmer."

I snorted. "You trying to tell me murderers have the light of Christ?"

Rebecca just shrugged. "I'm just saying it exists."

I pushed away from the wall. "If it's there then it's in the deepest, darkest dungeon. This is a house of darkness."

Rebecca stood up and made her way next to me. Her night gown hung over her thin body limply. It was obvious she had recently lost weight too quickly. "Good thing I like the dark then."

I couldn't smile at that, but when our eyes met I felt that something had changed over the night. I did not hate her exactly, though her power still unnerved me. She was not some crusader for the light; she was a quiet beacon of truth who was lost in the darkness. She knew evil and she understood it, but she wasn't evil herself. Rebecca was just caught in a nightmare and trying to survive.

Just like me.

We were kindred souls. Victims in a world of darkness.

"Why don't you get dressed and I'll take you to breakfast. It's a bit early but since we're already awake…" I trailed off. She nodded quickly and I started to leave the room.

"Hey Rebecca," I said as I opened the door. "I don't like sunrises either." She smiled gratefully at me and I stepped into the hallway, feeling like I'd done something right.

But looking at the snake figurine that was the doorknob reminded me of what we were here to do and any warmth I had felt drained away. She was going to fall, that much was inevitable. It would just be worse if I was friends with her.

Hate everyone, Draco. Life's easier that way. I wouldn't survive otherwise.

Nicolette

"You really can't take your sunglasses off? Even inside?" Molly Weasley was talking to Adam.

"Nope. These are actually my lighter glasses." He had really dark tinted glasses. Adam was talking with a sort of strained tone, like he had had this conversation one too many times but was trying to be understanding.

I thought he should just tell her to shut up and give him his eggs, but no one was listening to me.

Not that I was really talking. I was eating my own eggs and waiting for Zinny to text me back. He said the portal straight to England was under construction and he would have to make several jumps to get here and that could take a couple days of finagling. I had shared this information with my three conspirators and we were all silently stewing.

A couple of days was a long time. I wasn't too worried about what would happen to Becky. She would survive a few days, especially if they were trying to get her on her good side.

I was more concerned about what the Order was planning on doing. If it wasn't a rescue mission I didn't like it.

Adam had luckily convinced them better than I had that she was not really a threat to them. So she had been given a grace period in which they would attempt to contact her and safely remove her from whatever location she had been stationed at. They weren't exactly sure, though Snape could guess. Top priority was discovering where she was being held.

But currently they were all trying to act normal and go about their business.

Jerks.

When Zinny got here he would show them what was what.

…If he got here. I had a bad feeling there were English agents disrupting portalic Atlantic crossings.

My phone buzzed. I flipped it open.

_europe in general down try contacting b again when ur strength is back if can't get a portal we might make 1 g2g now ttyl_

Great. I put my phone away and shook my head at Ron, who sighed and left the room to relay the news to the other two. Adam finally got his eggs and sat next to me. I glanced at his plate. He probably had six eggs scrambled together.

"Dang. Someone's hungry." I teased.

He patted his belly. "I'm a big guy. Got a lot of room to fill."

I laughed and nodded, because I felt like I should. But returning to my own food was hard. I wasn't really that hungry, even though I knew I should be. I kept my fork poised above the last bite and just stared at it.

"Not going to finish it?" He asked me.

"I will. It's just… isn't this weird for you? Just eating breakfast when your sister is who knows where with a bunch of lunatics?" It was too normal for me. Eggs were too normal a breakfast food for having your best friend kidnapped.

Adam paused in his shoveling of food and set his fork down. He turned in his chair so he could look me right in the eye. His hair was loose about his shoulders—something else Molly had disapproved of. He had borrowed some clothes from one of the many Weasley children. Apparently the death eaters took everything we left in our hotel. I was most perturbed by this, but underneath the loss of my best friend it wasn't that big a deal.

"Should it be?" He scratched his beard a bit. "I guess it's a little weird. But she doesn't like eggs anyway, so it's not like she'd be eating any."

I blinked. Had he really just missed the point? Really?

He laughed at my expression. "Relax, Crazy." That was his nickname for me. "Becky's a tough girl. Me worrying about it isn't going to make it better." He shrugged and resumed egg consumption.

"You're not worried about her at all?" I exclaimed in shock.

"Of course I am. But not enough to keep me from eating. These are delicious, by the way." Adam nodded to Molly, who had walked in from the kitchen.

"Thank you dear." She smiled tensely and wandered by. She was more worried about Becky than her own brother was. What the heck?

"Hey, focus! Your sister could die any day now, and you just go on eating eggs!?" I would like to blame sleep-deprivation and exhaustion from my episode with Becky's nightmare for my inability to let the issue drop.

Adam was cool with it though. "The way I see it, Becky is in the Lord's hands now. Which are far more capable than mine. Yes, she could die. Yes, she's in an awful situation. But God knows where she is and he will take care of her."

He said this so simply, so definitively that I didn't know how to respond. He took another bite and everyone stared at him in shock. When he swallowed he spoke again. "I plan on breaking the arm of anyone who hurts her. But in the meantime, Becky's got enough faith in Christ to get her through anything."

He gave me his quirky smile and took another bite.

"But what if she does die?" Molly asked timidly, staring wide-eyed at my best friend's brother. A few others had gathered in the room, frozen in place as they listened in on our conversation.

I started to feel awkward, but Adam just answered like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Then I'll be devastated." He tilted his head thoughtfully as he considered this. "But then she'll be with God, in an infinitely better position than she is now." He chuckled suddenly and I saw Molly's eyes widen in disbelief.

"Sorry." Adam apologized, still grinning. "We… Well, she called me a while ago before one of her doctor's appointments. That was in the period where they thought she might have cancer and we talked about what would happen if she died."

"Why is that funny!?" I demanded, finding this a ridiculous thing to be _chuckling_ about.

He held up his hand in pacification and I quieted. "She was joking, but she said she'd go have a party with Tanner and whatever ancestors they could scrounge together."

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"A party?" Someone I didn't know asked. He had a scratchy face and wore scruffy robes, but a bouncy woman with pink hair had walked in with him. Her grin matched Adam's.

"Yeah. What good is Heaven if there's no place to have fun?" Adam asked with a grin.

Molly set her serving spoon down shakily. A red-headed man (He had been introduced to me as her husband, Arthur) slipped put his arms around her shoulders.

"I think that's a great way to look at death." The pink-haired lady put in, glancing at Molly. "Good perspective on life, too."

"Oh, Tonks." Molly shook her head. "That is… a very optimistic view. But those of us left here do not join in on that party. Have you…have you contacted your parents?"

She was quivering slightly and I wondered if she had lost someone. Adam nodded solemnly and then stood up. "I haven't yet, thanks for the reminder." He wolfed down the rest of his meal and headed off to make the call.

Adam had made me feel better, even if he had made Mrs. Weasley feel worse. I decided I should say something.

"Hey, he wasn't trying to be insensitive or anything."

"No, no. It's just the invincibility of youth." She tried to smile at me as she left her husband to pick up Adam's plate. "It's different when you're a parent. Would you like some breakfast Remus, Tonks?"

"I'll get it Molly, thanks." The scraggly man (Apparently Remus) got two plates of eggs and placed them on the table. He pulled out the seat for the pink-haired lady (Apparently Tonks) and sat next to her. It was kind of cute.

"It's not like that!" I protested Molly's dismissal of Adam. He was not just a silly boy! "Adam really does think that way. And Becky kind of does."

Molly gave me an indulgent smile. "It's a different perspective. He just doesn't understand."

I hated when adults did this. _Hated _it. Why did they think that just because we were young we didn't understand things?

"He said she would go find Tanner because he's the brother they lost." I explained impatiently.

That quieted Molly up good.

"Look, that's just how Adam deals with things. Becky too, though she's a bit more quiet about it." I shrugged and ate my last bit of egg. "They understand death plenty. So don't go talking about 'perspective' and crap. They just see things differently. Thanks for breakfast."

I put my dishes in the sink and headed up to my room to take a nap. I was going to get through to Becky eventually and I needed to be ready for it.

Rebecca

Days in Malfoy Manor were strange. Most of my day was spent having meetings with people: Draco's family, The Dark Lord, various Death Eaters. They were a cross between evaluations and lessons. I got the impression that they were judging me in some way, gauging my level of power and how well I responded to things. I wasn't being taught about magic much. More about the English way of life.

I met with doctors too. They did scans with their wands and gave the house elves instructions on what to feed me. I was hesitant to take any medicines from them, and I told them so. They were patient with me and left me unmedicated.

Everyone assured me that they would never make me do something I did not want to do. But I was not given an opportunity to contact anyone—for reasons that weren't well explained—and someone was always nearby to distract me if I started asking questions they felt were better answered at a later date.

Draco escorted me around everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_. It was kind of annoying to never be alone, but he and I got along fairly well. He wasn't exactly my friend—_Friendship_ held too much significance to be allowed. It was more of an _understanding. _ We were like allies in a war, even if I didn't fully understand what the war was about.

I wondered if they understood how much I could learn about people by looking at them. I knew these were not good people. I knew they were doing bad things and that they wanted me to help. But then, they knew all sorts of things about my background. Voldemort hadn't been kidding when he said he had kept tabs on me. It was sort of disturbing. So I had to wonder if they were manipulating me by allowing me to see certain things. But I could be over-thinking it.

It was so confusing.

At least I hadn't had another nightmare like the one Draco had found himself in. Nikki kept appearing in my dreams though, far more consistently than was normal. I never repeated the same dream twice. Draco and I avoided the topic of dreams at all costs though and I didn't feel comfortable discussing it with anyone else. Not that I was really comfortable talking about it with him _either_, but he was the closest person I had.

"You've got the thinking look on your face." Draco muttered as he brought me back up from dinner. "Get rid of it before the snake starts following us."

I smiled and rolled my eyes. "Sorry, I'll try to be less obvious about my brain power. And I like Nagini."

He shivered. "You haven't woken up to her about to eat you."

"That's true. Though I don't think she'd really eat you. You put too much lotion on to taste very good." I nodded to his well-moisturized skin. "She'd spit you out pretty quick."

"Hey, taking good care of my skin is not a crime." We reached my door and he let opened it for me.

"No, it's just a bit girly." I winked and scampered into the bedroom, miraculously not stepping on my skirts.

His jaw dropped in mock-shock.

"Are you insulting my masculinity?"

I just smiled and pushed the door closed. Or, nearly closed, as he put his foot in the way and then shoved it back open.

"I am simply conscious of my appearance. I care about the condition of my skin! That is not girly!"

I rolled my eyes. "You probably use more hygienic products than I do." I was just guessing, I really didn't know. But it was a fairly safe bet since I really didn't use that many.

He eyed me with a glare, clearly disgruntled. "I have an image to maintain."

"Sure." I agreed with an emphatic nod and a bright smile. "You tell yourself that."

"You!"

"Me?" I asked sweetly.

"You…!" But he could only say so much to me. It was some rule that I wasn't supposed to be aware of but was really painfully obvious.

That first morning Bella had come into the dining room where Draco and I had been served breakfast by a sleepy house elf. She took one look at my bloodshot eyes and nearly skewered Draco. In alarm I had rushed to explain that my contacts were the cause of the red veins, not anything Draco had done. I received a bottle of eye drops within ten minutes and Draco was given a stern warning.

I could not be hurt in any way, physically or emotionally. The paintings had ears and Draco would get in trouble even if he jokingly insulted me. "Go to bed." He grumbled in defeat.

"I am trying to, but your foot is in the way." I pointed at the offending appendage and pushed against the door again. He stepped away and I nodded approvingly. "Good night then."

He smirked. "That remains to be seen."

I laughed and shut the door. He had a messed-up life, but he had a pretty good sense of humor when he wasn't brooding.

The lock snicked behind me, a small reminder that despite my hosts' friendly assurances, I was in fact a prisoner. I changed out of my fancy dinner dress and slipped into the old-fashioned nightgown provided for me.

This was the only time I was really left alone. Draco probably would not be joining me tonight. He hadn't since the first night. Or if he had he was carefully about leaving before I woke up. Either way I would be alone with my dreams. There was no way Draco would risk falling into my head again. Poor guy.

But maybe it was a good thing, because if my theory about Nikki's continued appearances was correct, then I would rather he not drop in on me.

In case someone was watching me and lingering in my prayer-position a little longer than normal to make the mental preparations necessary to open my mind to lucid communications.

I couldn't draw a full circle or anything, but Professor Zinnober had used an adaptation of the lucid techniques in some of my sessions with him. He and I had developed a way for me to open a conduit to my mind where he could safely roam through my imagination with me. The conduit was only open to the person I was attempting to connect with, but if I was wrong and Nikki was not trying to contact me, then it would be open for anyone to intervene.

But if I was right and Nikki was going against all common sense to enter the precarious realm of my subconscious, then I needed to reach her. Because she was just stupidly caring enough to attempt that.

My ring had been confiscated at some point during the second night. It was not returned to me with the excuse that my efforts needed to be focused on my abilities, not my casting. The ring was a crutch and I needed to learn to walk on my own.

This was all for my own benefit of course.

Jerks.

In any case I had to do the spell in my head and try to imprint it upon reality. It was like drawing out peoples' fears and making them 'real'. Of course it was technically all illusionary, but my illusions were different. They drew power from belief in their reality; the more people thought it was real, the more real it became.

So if I believed really really hard in myself, it would work.

It only _sounded_ like a bad sports miracle movie.

I climbed into the bed and began the breathing techniques that allowed me to focus. I had to let go of my understanding of what was physically possible, ignore the laws of physics, and just let my imagination rule.

_Let reality unwind, let the power flow. Let the confines break, let the fires spread._

A soft thrill sung through my veins as I felt my abilities start to work. It really was a joy to use them, especially like this. It was exhilarating to feel like the entire universe was mine to bend, mine to own. I could control _everything_. I could take the bed stand and make it an elephant. _Anything_ was possible.

_Let the world crumble, let my soul rejoice. Let the pain fade, let the time commence._

My spirit soared in a glorious high as all the possibilities swam through my psyche. I let myself fly for a few moments, allowing the energies coursing through my body to expand. I had the power. _Anything_ could be done now. _Anything_.

But no. I had to reign myself back in. I had a goal. Focus.

_Nikki. Nikki, come to me._ _Open the door._

The process could have taken hours, but when I opened my eyes I was sitting in my room back home in California. It was a dream, but one I had control over.

Now I would just have to wait and see who answered the call.

Draco

Stupid girl. She really needed to stop smiling. It didn't fit her situation. Sure everyone treated her like a queen, but really, who smiled _all the freaking time!?_

It made me want to smile. Which was absolutely ridiculous. What was there to smile about?

At night she didn't smile as much though. In the mornings she was slower to pull the corners of her mouth up. I wondered if during the day she felt a need to smile at the world, like the tiny movement of her cheek muscles was her weapon against a painful universe.

It was annoying though. People with frightening powers should not be that quick to look happy. It made people want to trust them.

It made me want to trust her.

It _almost_ made me like her.

Stupid girl. Stupid me.

"Draco?" I looked up from my crouched position outside Rebecca's door. It was my father.

I got to my feet quickly. "Yes father?"

"Watching her door?" He asked; no emotion in his voice. I nodded. "Is that all you do? Do you go inside at all?"

_Not if I can help it._

"Occasionally. She's just asleep. There's nothing to watch inside." _Nothing I want to see anyhow_. "It's no different being inside or out." _Except for my personal safety._

I half-hoped he would respond in some way that would tell me what was going through his mind, if anything was. Maybe he was proud of me for being diligent in my duties. Maybe he was sorry I had duties at all.

But Lucius Malfoy was no more than a shell now. A shell doing the Dark Lord's bidding.

I might have scorned the pathetic-ness of it all if I wasn't in the same situation.

"The Dark Lord wants to see you. He is in my study." Was that a small glint of anger in his eyes? A small tightening of the skin? It was an obvious insult to the man to have lost his personal room, the one he had never even let his wife enter. "I will take your post until you return."

It was gone, whatever the look in his eyes had been. Lucius leaned heavily on his cane as he lowered himself to the ground beside the door. I felt shame well up within me as I watched. It hurt to see my proud father—the one I had looked up to for so long—reduced to this. I couldn't bare it.

"Yes, Father." I responded curtly and hurried away as fast as I could without running. My eyes felt hot. They stung with unshed tears. But I would not be weak.

Nicolette

"Do we really need to try this again? It hasn't worked once in the past week." Ron complained.

"Do you have a better idea?" I snapped back. I wasn't in a negotiating mood. Zinny still hadn't found a way to get here. The Order still hadn't found Becky. Even Adam wasn't being his happy self.

I had been helping people clean this stupid old house all day and been screamed at by paintings. I met many of the castors that were part of this order. Most of them were nice enough, if completely useless.

"Is there another way to contact her?" Harry asked from his place against the wall. He and I had bonded over shared frustration. He because no one would let him do anything and me because there was nothing to do.

I sighed. "Not that I know of."

Hermione finished the chalk drawing and took her place as an anchor. "We've still got time. Professor Snape said they're simply doing diagnostics of her right now."

Snape wasn't one of the lucky few who were allowed near her. Interactions with Becky were apparently being carefully controlled so she wouldn't suspect too much. I still thought he should go storming into the Death Eater headquarters and demand her return.

"But how long are they going to be diagnosing her? At some point they're going to begin converting her." Harry asked. "We can't waste what little time we have. From what Nikki said we really can't afford to wait."

"Which is why we're still trying this. Are you ready, freckles?" Ron scowled at me but he took his seat.

"I have a name." He grumbled.

"And I don't care. Are we all ready?"

There were a few nods so I opened my mouth to begin the chant.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Argh!" I growled and glared at the offending piece of wood. Harry walked over and cracked it open.

"Ginny!" He exclaimed in surprise. "What-What are you doing here?"

His hand came up and ran through his hair in nervousness. If I wasn't so tense I might have thought his awkwardness was cute. As it was I dubbed it stupid and pointless.

"I was wondering what you guys were up to." Ginny was Ron's little sister and apparently Harry's crush. She generally avoided us but apparently she had decided to intervene today. I wanted to punch her so bad.

"Nikki was just showing us some of her stuff." He answered too quickly. I clenched my hands into fists and bit my tongue to keep from saying anything.

"Is she? Can I see?" The door opened a bit more as she pushed against it, but Harry held firm. At least he was doing part of his job, even if he seemed reluctant to shut the door completely like he needed to.

"Uh…" See a pretty girl and all sense leaves him. Idiot.

I mouthed 'save him' to Hermione. She sighed. "Just let her in Harry."

That wasn't what I had meant at all. I glared and the brunette shrugged. "It can't hurt."

Yes it could! It so could!

"Fine."

Harry opened the door the rest of the way and Ginny stepped into the room. The creaky thing was closed quickly behind her. Her brown eyes flicked around to each person, carefully inspecting what we were doing. Apparently we passed her scrutinization because she simply asked how she could help.

"You can sit there and keep me from dying." I pointed to a spot on the circle.

"No!" Ron and harry shouted at the same time.

Ginny's eyes flashed. "Why not?"

"It's dangerous." Ron answered. "I won't let my baby sister get hurt like that." I'm so glad I'm the oldest.

"You're doing it." Ginny protested, folding her arms angrily. "Why can't I help too?"

"Because it's dangerous!" The red-headed boy repeated. I rolled my eyes.

"She'd be an anchor, not actually in Becky's head. She wouldn't get hurt at all." I assured him simply. "Worst case scenario she gets dragged with me and you two have to pull us both out."

"You can't tell me what to do, Ron!" Ginny stationed herself where I had pointed.

"Hermione, tell her why she can't do this!" Ron demanded, face growing redder.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "There isn't really a reason why she can't help."

She received a 'you traitor' look from the red head and a grateful one from his sister.

"Harry, help me! You don't want her involved in this!"

The dark-haired boy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor and die. I felt a bit of pleasure at his discomfort. Ginny twisted in her seat to look at him. "Well, Harry. What _do_ you think? You think I'm too weak to handle this?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not that—I just…"

"Well, it doesn't matter what you think." The girl interrupted. "You don't have any say in what I do with my life anymore."

Ah. I saw it now. Ginny and Harry had been together and something had happened. Something that probably involved him not considering her to be strong enough. I was picking up what was being thrown down here.

Ginny flipped her hair over her shoulder and returned to looking at me.

Ron turned to his last resort: Me. Ha.

"You know your friend is dangerous! I saw you when you came out of her head that first time! She's a—"

"A what?" My eyes turned steely. "A monster? A menace? Becky would never intentionally hurt anyone and I'll thank you to not forget that."

"That's not what I meant. I meant—"

"It doesn't matter what you meant!" I shouted angrily, losing control. "Just shut up already! If your sister wants to help my best friend than I'm not going to complain! It's her choice! So all of you shut up and let me work!"

I was breathing hard, seething with pent up frustration. I closed my eyes, blocking out all these stupid teenagers, and started chanting.

Everything drifted away and I slipped into dreamland.

Draco

I bowed before my lord and waited for him to give me instructions. He left me crouching down in that uncomfortable position for several minutes, demonstrating his authority and power over me. My legs were shaking form the effort of holding myself like that by the time he bid me rise.

I made no noise as I stood straight again. What could I have said?

"So, Draco. You have been an excellent guard for Miss Nils these past few days."

I bowed shortly. "Thank you, my lord."

He smiled lightly and stroked the giant snake coiled around his chair—previously my father's chair.

"Is there anything you would like to report? How is she getting along?"

I kept my eyes on the floor as I responded. "Re-Miss Nils seems to be getting along as well as can be expected." I knew that wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear so I struggled to find details. "She's in pain most of the time, but she doesn't complain."

"Yes, her strange illness. What do you think of her unwillingness to express her discomfort?"

"I think… I think she doesn't want to bother anyone with it. She likes to please people. She is very… nice." I winced as I spoke, wondering what it was I was trying to tell Voldemort.

"Hm. Interesting." The Dark Lord entwined his fingers and stared absently at them. "I'm sure we can use her will to please. Is there anything else you think you should tell me about?"

"I-I don't believe so my lord."

"Ah, Draco. This is most disappointing." He leaned back into his chair and withdrew his wand. Sweat trickled down my neck. I clasped my hands behind my back so they wouldn't shake. "Are you sure?"

"She gets poetic randomly." I scrambled to find things to tell him. "She likes to sit in shadows and read. She… she has a pretty realistic view on life."

"Draco, I do not need to hear your scrabblings of her personality. What has she done recently? Why does Nagini find you outside her room? Surely your duties would be better served if you were closer to her."

What was I supposed to say? I was afraid of her nightmares?

"I-I thought she might enjoy a bit of privacy." I lied.

Searing pain exploded in my back as the Dark Lord's reaction exploded from his wand. I fell to the ground with a scream.

"Draco, Draco, Draco." He disappointedly clicked his snake-like tongue. "Do not presume that you can lie to _me_. Tell me the truth, dear boy."

I pushed myself up from the floor and let the story spill out. Voldemort stood slowly and strode over to where I lay crumpled on the floor.

"Poor boy." He sighed with false sympathy. "She is a frightening creature, isn't she? Do you know she has been holding back on her powers this whole week? She has just barely begun to look into the minds of your Death Eater brothers. And never does she go very far. Just enough to ask a question, to get a simple answer. Why do you think this is?"

I trembled on the ground. "I don't know, my lord."

"So much potential is being wasted to fear. We must show her that we have the answer to her fears." He began to pace. "I believe she needs something to make her feel more at home. Feel more like she trusts us, don't you?"

"Yes, my lord." What else would I say?

"I…" He trailed off and paused in his pacing. His head tilted with interest and he gazed in the general direction of Rebecca's quarters. "Well, maybe she is not quite so afraid of her powers." He thoughtfully mumbled.

Draco hesitantly looked in the direction but could feel nothing.

"She is opening a way for someone to enter her mind. How very resourceful. But we can't have that. Return to your post, Draco. When morning comes alert Miss Nils that we are holding a ball in her honor. Tell your father to come meet with me." I bowed quickly and exited the room as fast as I could.

I felt power beginning to build within the study. The Dark Lord was about to do something to Rebecca, and I did not want to be there to see it. As soon as I turned the corner I was sprinting away.

Nicolette

I was in a park. Squirrels raced across the ground and up the trees, birds sang in the trees, but no children were on the playground. I could see a girl with long, golden hair facing away from me on a swing set. I hesitated as I walked nearer. If this was another nightmare than that person could be anything. It could eat me, or rip off my limbs, or hypnotize me and turn me into some sort of slave.

Or it could be Becky.

Screw it. If this was a dangerous beast than it was a dangerous beast. It would try and eat me whether I was sneaky or not.

"Becky!" I yelled as loud as I could.

Her head jerked up and twisted around her neck to stare at me. Yup. That was Becky. "Nikki!" She shrieked, launching herself off the seat and dashing over to throw her arms around my neck. "I thought you were trying to contact me but I wasn't sure and oh my gosh, you're here!" She gushed, squeezing me too tightly. I didn't care though. This was my best friend, she was alive and she was here.

I started screaming and spinning her around. We were practically crying we were so excited to see each other.

"Is it really you? This isn't some creepy dream? Is a monster going to pop up and eat me?" I asked through my tears.

"No, it's really me!" She answered, joy shining clearly in her voice.

"Oh, Becky! It's so good to see you again! I've been so worried! Are you okay? Do I need to kill anyone? Are they hurting you?"

She shook her head quickly, the beautiful hair I was so jealous of bouncing around her shoulders. "No, everyone's been great."

"What?" That wasn't what I expected to hear from her. One did not say that the people holding one hostage were great. "Becky, you're being housed by murderers!"

Her eyes unfocused as she thought of her captors, then she shrugged. "Well, they're very accommodating murderers."

_Accommodating?_ I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Becky!"

"What? They are! They're all very nice to me." She ignored my unhappy expression. "I know they're bad, but some of them don't have a choice anymore. I feel sorry for them."

A chill crept down my spine. "Becky, stop. Don't do that. You need to keep a clear sense of enemy and ally here. They're going to try and trick you into helping them. You can't fall for that."

"I won't." She assured me with a smile. My unease dissipated and I threw my arms around her neck again.

"I'm so glad to see you. It's been awful without you. Nobody else understands me."

"Oh, please tell me you haven't turned into one of _those_ teenagers while I've been gone!" She asked with a laugh.

"It's true! They think I'm insane."

Her laughter was the best sound I had ever heard. She buried her face in my shoulder, probably trying to remind herself that I was really here with her. "How's Adam? Did you guys call my parents? Are you okay?"

"We're not allowed to tell them the details so your parents don't really know. Adam's doing fine. I think you should be more concerned about the people who have to deal with us." I grinned.

"Oh, I am. Those poor people are probably ready to explode."

"Yeah. But Becky, are you sure you're alright? How are you doing with your disease?" I made her look at me. She could appear however she wanted to here so there was no way for me to have an accurate depiction of her health.

"I'm fine. Really! They take good care of me. It's actually kind of creepy how good." She smiled and my heart filled up with happiness. I had missed her fake 'don't worry about me' smile.

"Well, I'm still gonna bust their gut when we get you out. Where are you anyway?" Happy reunion time was over. It was time for information gathering.

"The house elf said I'm in Malfoy Manor. I don't know where that is though." She responded.

"Someone here probably does. Listen, whatever they do to you, don't give in!"

"I won't! Quit worrying! It'll take more than a couple fancy dinners and a giant snake to make me forget my morals."

A loud rumbling interrupted what I was about to say. I glanced around in alarm. "What's that?!" I cried out.

"I don't know!" Becky yelled over the noise, concern marring her smile. "You should probably go though."

"I thought everything was fine." I told her tensely.

She pushed me away. "_I'm_ fine. _I _get taken care of. That doesn't extend beyond me. Go! Tell Adam I love him."

Didn't want to leave her. Not when I had her here, but the rumbling was starting to shake the ground and I knew it was time to go. I gave her a quick hug. "I love you! Don't let them hurt you!"

"I love you too. Bye."

I pulled away and began the chant that would take me back to my body. When I next opened my eyes I was looking at my anchors and Harry Potter.

I wiped away the moisture that had formed from my eyes. "I talked to her. She's in Malfoy Manor. Tell me you know where that is."

Everyone scrambled to their feet. "Malfoy!?" Came the collective exclamation.

I got to my feet and threw open the door. "Yes! That is what I said, stupid! Where is that!?"

"My dad knows. He's searched it before." Ron responded. "Let's go get him."

The five of us raced down the stairs and into the kitchen to tell our findings to the important people in the Order.

"Adam!" I yelled, grabbing his arm when I saw him. "Adam! I found her! I found Becky!"

"How?"

"Lucid dreaming! But it doesn't matter. Who here knows where Malfoy Manor is!?" I gazed around the room at the shocked expressions of various Weasleys.

More people were gathered from various corners of the room and Hermione helped me explain what we had been doing for the past few days.

"You should have told us! That was dangerous!" Mrs. Weasley scolded us sternly. Hermione hung her head sadly. I ignored them both.

"Who cares? We found her!"

Snape came in through a different door looking haggard and breathing hard. "The Dark Lord is presenting Rebecca Nils at a ball tomorrow. Every death eater is to be there."

"What?" I stared at him in shock. "Why?"

"I don't know, but we can steal her from them there." He responded. "I have a plan."

No one moved. Adam rolled his eyes. "Let's do it then." He said, standing up. "What do you need us to do?"

Rebecca

The earthquake assaulting my park ruptured through the grass, splitting the ground. A dark shadow shot out of the rift. I turned to run but it snatched me off the ground and wrapped me in a black, sticky net. My dream form suffocated and I was thrust painfully back into my body.

A scream caught in my throat as I gasped for breath. I forgot about my lungs expansion limit and my muscles stretched beyond the safe zone. Pain spread across my stomach and I whimpered pathetically, tightening my grip on the blankets around me. I was panicking; my breathing was short and labored.

I started to cough as my lungs filled with blood and I scrambled to the edge of the bed. I heaved and dark blotches of blood came up through my throat to stain the carpet.

Slowly, I regained control of my breathing. Panic faded to exhaustion and I slumped against my pillows. Then I was aware of someone in the room with me. I pushed up from the mattress in shock.

"Don't be afraid, Miss Nils." The torches flickered on and Voldemort's imposing figure appeared in front of me. "You are safe here."

I shrunk back against my pillows, trembling.

"I just wanted to personally inform you that we will be holding a ball in your honor tomorrow night." He smiled warmly. I focused on his pointed teeth, keeping my eyes from his. I didn't want to see what he was thinking, what rage he was hiding. "I've noticed you don't seem to trust us very well. I wanted to show you how much we appreciate you."

I nodded quickly, trying to ignore the rivulets of blood still sliding out of my mouth.

"I think you are ready to begin more personal instruction with your unique gifts."

"I don't think I need that—sir." I hesitantly put in. "I'm good, really."

He raised thin eyebrows and quirked half his mouth into an indulgent smile. "Are you sure?"

I nodded quickly. I was certain he wouldn't hurt me and that certainty made me feel bolder. "I'm good enough."

A long, mournful sigh left me shivering. "Miss Nils, dear, do not settle for good enough. Why don't I leave you to think about it? You can tell me your answer tomorrow night. If you really do not want our help we will happily return you to your home."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Really?"

"Of course. Your happiness is at the top of my priority list. Think on it." His image flickered away and I sat back.

No way. It couldn't be that easy. Could it? There was a catch somewhere. I brushed my chin against the sleeve of my nightdress. A smear of blood tainted the fancy silk. The torches went out.

"Hurry Nikki." I whispered, before curling into a small ball under my blankets.

Nicolette

We had a plan. We were going to invade at this party thing. We were going to save Becky.

Hope flared within my chest.

"We're coming Becky, hold on."

* * *

That was long, took forever, and wasn't that great. Sorry. Review anyway?

Emma! I do appreciate your review. You're right, it's very slow. I have a bad habit of getting caught up in conversations my characters have and forgetting that they actually need to _do_ something. I would say that there is a difference between having similiar occurances and actually copying the same thing. If by having dreams as a central point of my story I am copying Harry Potter, then JK Rowling is copying practically every Greek myth. Dreams have been an integral part of literature since its creation. As for the correlation with Edward watching Bella, I would say that while they are both watching a girl sleep, the motivations for doing so are rather different. But I didn't do the dreams very well, that's true. I kind of meant for them to be confusing, but I guess I did it too much. The chapter titles are silly things that I just throw in there. The one with all the P's actually has real words, they just didn't fit in the box. They are posted within the actual text of the story. Thank you for your input! I will try and be more clear in the future.


	7. Chapter 7: Angels and Demons

Chapter 7: Angels and Demons

Rebecca

A ball? Really? Could they get more eighteenth century? If they gave me a dance card I was going to explode.

"Do I have to dance?" I asked Draco as I gingerly ran my fingers over one of the dozen dresses I was to pick from. A couple house elves sat around the room waiting for me to decide. I was looking for which one had the least frills. This one looked promising but I was concerned about the heavy fabric on my stomach.

Draco was sitting on a stool nearby, already dressed in his tux plus robes ensemble. He was brooding again. This ball had put him on edge, which was annoying because I needed emotional support. Not that I would tell him that.

"Draco?" I prompted when he failed to respond.

He jerked up from wherever him mind had wandered to. "I think it looks great!" He answered with distracted enthusiasm. I glanced to the dress my hand was still on.

"Um…okay. That wasn't what I asked though."

He sighed. "It wasn't? Oh. Well, I think it's hideous then."

I rolled my eyes and gave him an amused look before moving on to the next mass of lace and velvet. "Will there be dancing?" I repeated.

"Of course there's going to be dancing, it's a ball!" He responded shortly. "Have you picked one yet?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm more of a Renaissance period girl than Victorian. I don't need a corset right? I'm never going to make it through the night."

"Quit being a baby. It can't be that bad." Draco muttered. He really was edgy if he was letting his temper get this short.

I didn't look back at him. He probably expected me to smile ruefully and make a joke about the clothing, and I wanted to. Corsets were open for so many jokes. They were a product of the devil if ever there was one. But his words had struck a chord and I didn't trust my voice. It was the mantra I'd chanted to myself for the past six months. Quit being a baby, it's not that bad. Just a stomach ache. It's not that bad, get out of bed. It's not that bad...

Tonight would be awful. I had a hard enough time breathing without the constricting presence of a corset.

Don't be a baby, Rebecca. It can't be that bad.

"Do I have to dance?" I asked, voice strained tight.

I could almost feel Draco tense behind me. The fabric of his pants shifted noisily as he rose from his seat and stepped closer. I busied myself with the dresses, biting down on my tongue to distract myself.

"If you do not want to dance I don't think anyone would make you." He answered behind me. An arm slipped past me and he pulled a deep maroon dress off the rack. "This would look good on you."

I took it from him without meeting his eyes. "Thanks."

There was an awkward silence that I tried to ignore by inspecting the garment. It _was _pretty. "You don't know how to waltz do you?" He guessed, sounding superior.

This pulled a well-deserved eye roll from me. "No, I mean, yes, I don't know how to waltz."

"I'll teach you, if you want." I smiled at his offer and shook my head.

"No, I can't. I mean, physically. I'm…I'm too sick. I can't move enough." Bad topic. Bad.

The bodice had beads. I liked beads. And the sleeves were made of some sort of sheer material overtop of the maroon, giving it an almost gypsy-like flow. Gypsies were great. There was a giant ribbon that would presumably tie into a bow behind my back. Perfect.

Maybe if I got excited enough about the clothing my eyes would quit trying to water.

"Not that it matters much." I continued quickly, hoping if I talked fast enough I would be okay. "I couldn't dance before I was sick. I'm about as graceful as a cow. Always have been." I forced a bright smile and a chuckle and fled behind the changing screen.

"You can't be that bad." Draco responded in disbelief, his voice carrying over the screen.

"Wanna bet?" I called back lightly. I thought my voice suddenly sounded a little high but it was better than nothing. I changed into the dress as best as I could. I had hoped it would be a cheater outfit, with hidden zippers and other easy to do things but the Malfoys never went halfway. The back had to be laced up. Dang. "If there is something to trip on my feet will find it! I trip on nothing all the time."

I moved out and a house elf skittered across the room to help me with the laces.

"Well, you certainly don't look like a cow." The boy muttered when the elf finished. I glanced over at the full length mirror. It probably needed a farthingale and a corset and whatever else people from older centuries stuffed under their clothes to appeal to fashion's dictator tendencies. I thought it hung a bit funny over my figure, but it was pretty and if Draco liked it the rest of the world probably would to.

"Looks can be deceiving." I muttered and then twisted in the mirror to see how easily it moved.

"Are you saying you're a cow in disguise?" He asked. The reflection beside mine quirked an eyebrow, inciting a wave of jealousy in me. The things I could do if I had the muscular function of lifting only one eyebrow. Look out world, I have a genetic deformity that gives my face extra flexibility! Fear my awesome skills!

Wow. I was one big package of depression today.

_Stop that. No one wants to see you being all self-depreciating._

"I'm not a cow. But that doesn't make me any more graceful. Is there any chance I'll be able to wear flats? Seeing as high heels are a considerably more modern accouterment? " I asked hopefully, thinking that if at least my feet were comfortable the evening would not be a terrible disaster. Optimism! Feel the optimism! Live the optimism! Optimistic people live longer, happier lives!

Draco grinned. "If our styles of decorating our bodies with fabric haven't changed in the past three hundred years, our shoes at least have developed."

Optimism just got canned.

I groaned and dropped my face into my hands. "Just shoot me now."

My fingers were gently pried from my head by one of Draco's big pale hands. He had a mischievous expression that I found rather alarming. "Now? But we haven't even put your make-up on yet. Or done your hair!"

Good heavens. They wanted me to put make-up on. Maybe a better phrase was bad hells. Very bad.

"I demand to know who designed this system of slow torture." I stomped my foot and jerked my hands away from his to firmly place them on my hips.

"Ah, that would be the French." He answered with a shrug, unperturbed by my frustrated posture.

The house elves began setting up a tray of brushes and frighteningly pointy hair pieces. Had anyone ever died by hair accessories before? Should I be signing some sort of waiver before letting them at my tender scalp? "Then they shall meet Madame Guillotine." The firelight glinted off the silver spines of a clip and I shuddered. "Immediately."

Draco apparently found my distress highly amusing. Too amusing. He looked at the pained expression on my face and collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny. I'm serious!" I protested vainly.

Draco's mirth did not subside but at least he managed to straighten his spine. "Yes it is."

I pouted into the mirror. "At least you're not laughing at me. I'm totally serious."

"Seriously ridiculous. You'd think you were being drawn and quartered instead of being honored by the illustrious Malfoy family in the finest ball of the year. I mean, really. Hmph." A light, musically mocking voice drifted out of the mirror, vigorously reprimanding me.

My jaw dropped and Draco doubled over in renewed laughter.

I just got dissed by a mirror. If ever there was an FML moment…

Nicolette

"You aren't coming!" Snape growled at me when I cornered him.

"Wanna bet?" I responded, arms crossed defiantly.

"You're volatile and you will be a liability!" He responded, shoving me out of his way with the ornate cane he carried for decoration. He was trying to dress formally and spiffy in his fancy bathrobes and under tux. But let me tell you it wasn't working for him! Never! "If you could possibly control your temper and your tongue for thirty seconds I might be persuaded, but you cannot and so you will stay here."

I followed. "Potter gets to go!"

"Much to my chagrin." He muttered.

We ended up in the kitchen where the other four 'ball guests' were gathered—members of the Order of the Useless Bird. The team consisted of Charlie Weasley, a hot but oblivious guy who worked with dragons; Severus Snape, the epitome of incorrigible jerkface; Bill Weasley—the other hot red head; and Fluer Delacour—Bill's part veela fiancé. A separate group consisting of Nymphadora Tonks (the pink haired lady who could change her appearance at will), Mad-Eye Moody (scary, scary man I didn't want to meet in a dark alley), and Harry Potter would lurk around the sides for added protection.

They would swoop in, find Becky, talk with her, and sneak her out before anyone realized they weren't death eaters.

Without me.

How was Becky supposed to know all these people? What if she thought _they_ were evil doers trying to abduct her? I was needed, dang it!

"Is everyone ready?" Snape asked tersely. He adjusted his cuff links and strode toward the fire where a cup of floo powder sat. There was some gruff nods, some mumbles of agreement, and an exuberant "Hell yes" from Tonks.

Snape gave the girl a glare and she rose several points in my esteem.

"Good. First group, move out."

Several explosions of green fire later and I was left with the three commandos. I couldn't follow because they would be making several apparation jumps after leaving the floo network to ensure no one could follow them. I went for one last attempt at being taken along.

"You have to bring me!" I whined to Tonks. I figured she would be the most receptive to my pleas. "I can help!"

She glanced over at Moody and shrugged. "I'm down with it."

"She's an untried teenager with no experience in this area." He answered gruffly as he shook out an invisibility cloak. He and Harry each had one. Tonks would just morph as needed.

"What? Does Harry have a PH.D. in kicking death eater but and saving damsels in distress?" I demanded. "He's not much older than me!" Harry glared at me.

"Potter's got plenty of experience." Moody wasn't bending. "Practically fights evil every other day. Besides, he can keep an eye on You Know Who. If someone's spotted he'll know immediatey and we can get out."

New argument. "Come on! There's three of you! You need an even number! What about the buddy system?"

"She has a point." Tonks put in as her hair shortened to a tight brown bob. "Nikki here did manage to contact Rebecca, something no one else did. She's proved pretty resourceful."

Moody sighed and gave me a hard look with his one good eye. "You think you can do this?"

"Totally!"

"It'll piss off Snape." Tonks offered with a grin. Moody snorted.

"Fine then. Your life's your own." His magical eye swung around and looked up through the ceiling. "She's your problem though. It's on you if she dies. Go change into something more sneaky."

I held in my squeal of excitement and raced up the stairs.

Draco

"Stop looking at me!" Rebecca protested my amused grin, but she couldn't do anything about it. The house elves were busily doing her nails and hair, leaving no room for her to move. And despite how uncomfortable she was with it I refused to look at anything else. It was too hilarious.

Coming from my family, with the strict dress codes and constant fancy clothing, watching someone being forcefully assimilated into our standards was rather pleasing.

And it was kind of nice to see Miss "I have super powers that you should be quivering in fear of" look so out of sorts.

It was really amazing what you learned about people when they were explaining just why things made them uncomfortable. For instance, Rebecca did not have anything pink in her wardrobe and home. At all. She had almost stepped into the realm of purple once and found it frightening beyond belief. She had then turned tail and sprinted back to her grass stained jeans and soccer cleats, screaming.

Or something akin to screaming, because apparently only girly-girls did that. Rebecca had long since gone through grueling anti-girly training, courtesy of two older, rather opinionated brothers.

Snakes, spiders, knives, bloody slasher films? No problem!

But heaven forbid there be a mascara brush. Eye shadow belonged in hell. Lip gloss? A fate worse than death.

"How on earth have you been wearing all these evening gowns if you are this afraid of looking like a girl?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I'm not afraid! I'm just…less comfortable. I wear dresses for church all the time. But you haven't made me wear make-up, or extensive jewelry, or done anything with my hair until today! I mean, I wear necklaces but I usually wear sunglasses anywhere people will see me so make-up is a pointless effort and I'm anything but a hair stylist, I usually just leave it long or put it up in a pony tail!"

I listened to her complaints with a sympathetic expression, but silently I was reveling in pushing her outside her comfort zone. This was payback for having such freaky dreams. "You look like you're about to have a panic attack."

She shot me a glare but her face was promptly pulled back for the dreaded application of the inky eyelash amplifier.

"This isn't period." She grumbled softly, earning a broader grin from me. She was in so much pain. I loved it.

There was a quiet knock at the door of the dressing room and I rose to answer it.

It was my mother. My mood soured immediately.

"Draco." She greeted without feeling. I was taller than her now, but I'd never felt like I could look down at Narcissa until this year. She had always stood with such a proud, self confident posture that to presume that a simple matter of height difference gave me the right to gaze _down_ on her was not only ridiculous, but deserving of retribution. "Might I speak to you?"

She turned and drifted down the hallway, each step perfectly placed, full of a lithe grace that hid the woman's troubled life. Narcissa Malfoy was the epitome of nobility—impeccable mannerisms, perfect breeding—A true pureblood witch. No one who did not know better would notice the way her was just barely arched, the way her left arm hung just slightly slower, the way the expensive dress was padded to hide her gaunt figure. The way Narcissa was hurting.

Draco turned his head back to Rebecca. Suddenly her complaints were not quite so entertaining. This might just be her last night she could protest the transformation into the Dark Lord's pet. Soon she too would hide marks behind clothes, hide pain behind the aristocratic mask of the Death Eaters.

I stood in the doorway between Rebecca Nils and Narcissa Malfoy. The threshold we would all pass through as we followed the Dark Lord down his evil pathway.

But no. This was just a regular gap between walls, built for the sole purpose of stepping through to get from one room to the next. It was no metaphorical explanation for the transformation of loving, happy girls into soul-less slaves.

In any case, Rebecca already had one foot through that doorway and the house elves were busy sealing the space behind her as they painted a mask across her cheeks. Maybe she was on to something, if all that make-up only represented her conformity to the Dark Lord.

"I'll be back." I told the girl before closing the door behind me.

"Yes, Mother?" I asked when I caught up to her.

Narcissa stood in front of a window, staring out at the Manor grounds. It was winter but there was no snow. The landscape looked brown and dead. It was too cold to grow, but not cold enough to cover the decay.

"I suppose we'll have to charm the gardens." She observed conversationally. "With so many guests coming, we will have to look like life exists here." Her light and airy tone took a turn for the bitter and her expression tightened.

Narcissa's gardens were much like Lucius's study. The one place of solitude and relaxation. But the woman had been bound to the manor's interior for nearly a month now, and the hired gardeners could only do so much with the English winter.

I stepped up next to her and peered out the window. She used to bring me down there when I was little. I had even planted a few rosebushes. She had cross bread so many roses throughout my life. It had been a tradition to make a new color on my birthday. A new petal for every new year. We had missed this year. The empty plot sat conspicuously barren, even amid the rest of the brown foliage.

"Was there something you needed me for?" I asked, refusing to look at the swinging bench Narcissa had once cuddled with me on as I nursed the finger a thorn had ripped.

She nodded and pulled away from the window with one last, longing look. She drew an elegant hair comb from a fold of her robes and carefully placed it in my hand.

"This is the Dark Lord's gift for Miss Nils." She explained as I twisted it around—watching firelight flicker in its polished, gem-studded surface. "Careful, the potion contained within is not for you."

My head jerked up and I looked into my mother's blue eyes with surprise. "What? Why is he trying to poison her?"

Narcissa shook her head, beautiful blonde curls bouncing with a vitality they did not possess. "Do not jump to conclusions, Draco. It is a potion to amplify her connection to her powers. Think of it like a concentrated dose of adrenaline. It is supposed to more thoroughly convince our little guest that she requires our help."

I hesitantly pocketed the glinting metal. "What do I do with it?"

"You simply have to accidently prick her scalp as you slide it into her hair." She answered with a shrug. "Do not think too much about it. I will see you in the ball room." Her long, cold fingers brushed lightly down my cheek and with an graceful turn of the heel she left me.

Unconsciously my own fingers touched the skin she had and I wished my mother would come back—from more than just down the hall.

The tightening of my throat was from dust. The house elves had not cleaned this area thoroughly enough.

I stormed back to the dressing room to berate them and deliver the _present_.

Harry

I stuck close to Professor Moody as we lurked around the edges of the gathered party. I recognized a good portion of them and would have liked to just start blasting their evil hides, but we had a specific mission in mind. My only job was to focus on my connection with Voldemort.

He had been so happy the last few nights and now he was almost giddy with anticipation for the evening's events. It disturbed me more than a little.

Nikki and Tonks were on the other side of the room. Rebecca had yet to appear in the room. Apparently she was to appear late to make her presence more dramatic. Moody and I weren't supposed to move around much but the girls were to skirt around the edges keeping an eye on our other guests.

Moody slammed a hand down on my leg when it started bouncing. I flinched and sighed. I was twitchy and nervous. I wasn't used to sitting on the sidelines as reconnaissance. I'm an action kind of guy. This is driving me crazy.

"Easy kid. Don't go looking for a fight if we don't have to have one."

He really didn't have to tell me that. I didn't _enjoy_ battles. I just didn't want to sit in a corner all night when I could be taking out half the Death Eater legion. I couldn't believe just how _many_ people were here! I'd never dreamed there were this many followers of the Dark Lord. He really had amassed an army in the past year.

A wave of joy spilled over my bond with Voldemort. The crowd seemed to ripple as everyone turned to stare at the Malfoys' grand staircase. The orchestra that had been playing for the few dancing couples cut off. I started to rise to get a better look at the room, but everyone had knelt down. Voldemort, not Rebecca, was coming down the stairs.

He paused at the middle of the stairs and stretched out his arms widely, gesturing to the entire gathered host. He wore a stunning black doublet with silver embroidery underneath an exquisite robe. His pants matched the shirt. A large necklace hung down over his chest. I couldn't really see the emblem from here but I guessed it was a snake.

"Rise." The people pushed up from the ground and watched their master with a mixture of fear and devotion. "Friends, loyal followers, distinguished guests! Welcome to our little ball honoring our most prestigious guest. We would like to thank our gracious hosts, the Malfoys, for allowing our use of their home for our own frivolous ends. As you know our weapon will be presented shortly. Treat her as you would treat me, with reverence and respect due to one of her importance. A demonstration of her abilities will be given later tonight, but remember your instructions. Do not speak of it to her. She gets nervous."

There was a collective chuckle and then Voldemort turned about.

"And now I present to you, the lady who will win this war for us…" He trailed off as he stretched out a hand to the entrance above the grand staircase. "Miss Rebecca Nils!"

Cheering and clapping exploded across the hall and on the arm of Draco Malfoy came the girl who could potentially destroy everything.

Draco

Accidently puncturing someone's scalp with a hair pin on purpose is harder to do than it sounds.

I mean, if it didn't actually break the skin I would have to redo it. And I had to do that without looking like I was actually trying to stab her. Because even though that's kind of what I was doing, it wouldn't go over well.

"Do you want me to put it in?" She asked as I hesitated over her hair.

"No!" I growled shortly. I did not need help! I was Draco Malfoy! I could properly accidently stab a girl with a hair pin without assistance! Rebecca jumped at my tone and gave me a confused look. I pushed her face back so she couldn't look into my eyes. "You don't even know a doublet from a tunic! I doubt you could properly apply hair accessories if you tried!"

There an awkward pause and then Rebecca ventured back into conversation with a questioning, "And you… _do?_"

My cheeks burned. That had not been what I meant to say. Trying to make up some ground I stumbled over a response, "All aristocrats are well-versed in all forms of bodily adornments!"

"…Right."

What the heck. I shoved it in. She have a satisfying yelp of pain and I apologized profusely.

She had jerked her hand upward to cover the point of pain and hissed unhappily. "Well verse my eye!" She grumbled before pulling her hand away. "If I'm bleeding…"

I could be too apologetic or she would get suspicious, but I couldn't be too callous or she would get upset. What kind of stupid job was this? "Threaten me later. We have a ball to get to." I grabbed her hand, dragged her from the stool, and towed her behind me to the door.

"Why are we running?" Rebecca cried.

Because I don't want to watch whatever drugs my mother put on that swim through your system. Because I don't want you noticing how agitated I am. Because if I run fast enough maybe I can get away from the nightmare that will be tonight.

"Because running is good for you! You're slow!"

"I'm in a dress, high heels, and I've spent the past six months being an invalid!" She protested.

"No excuses, we have a ball to get to!"

Becky

Draco pulled to an abrupt stop and I just avoided crashing in to him. He then positioned me more dignified way—my arm looped through his—and walked us carefully into the ballroom. I could hear Voldemort making some sort of speech but the words seemed mumbled. I just barely made out my name when Draco and I entered the room.

Tumultuous applause broke out. I froze at the banister and stared around at what seemed like a thousand fancily dressed castors all cheering for _me_.

"Woah." I gasped softly, my hands starting to shake.

Draco gave my wrist a comforting squeeze and then lead me in a slow descent to Lord Voldemort, who indicated that we should continue our progression to the floor. I couldn't decide if the wizards looked like exuberant puppies eager for a new friend or like a pack of sharks clamoring for the chance to devour me.

We reached the ground floor and I gave a hesitant smile to the few that rushed forward to shake my hand and greet me.

There were so many people here! And they all wanted to talk to me! Draco guided me through the crowd but we could never move very fast. Maybe they were more like piranha than sharks. Swimming in packs and ripping off flesh piece by piece. I drew closer to Draco as time passed, slowly hiding more and more behind his broad shoulders. But he kept giving me furtive, expectant glances that I didn't like so he really wasn't any more comfort than a big rock.

A lot of people were giving me the same expectant looks. It was like they were waiting for me to perform something. It made me more nervous than I already was and my stomach started to churn.

It didn't help that my head was beginning to pulse. I was getting pretty dizzy too. I put it down to the thousand and two people turning me around to shake my hand, but it was getting serious. I was really dizzy. Like, nauseas dizzy.

"Draco…" I started when there was a brief gap of almost worshipping ball guests. "Draco, I really don't feel good. I need to sit down or I'm going to collapse soon."

He gave me a worried look but expertly pulled me through the crowd to a quieter corner. He conjured a cup with his wand and filled it with water. "Here."

I drank it gratefully and sank into an expensively cushioned chair that he pulled up for me. "Thank you."

I was about to ask him to refill the glass when his father appeared. I sighed, sensing the coming demise of my moment of peace.

Draco came to my defense. "Father, Miss Nils is feeling ill." Ha, that almost rhymed. "She needs to rest for a minute."

The two men took a minute to silently stare at each other. It was some sort of silent challenge that I didn't understand, but I was on Draco's side so I dropped my head into my palm and tried to look extra pathetic. I've had a lot of practice with that look, mostly because it was usually true.

But Mr. Malfoy didn't buy it. He stepped around his son and lifted my chin up.

"I think you just need to get your blood pumping." He told me with a tight, almost-friendly smile. The muscles were too strained for it to be sincere. He proceeded to pull me from the chair and loop my arm through his. "Draco, tell the maestro to do something more…peppy."

Lucius led me back through the crowd and I stared desperately over my shoulder at Draco. He could only shrug helplessly and move in the direction of the orchestra. My spirits plummeted and I tried to plead with my dance partner.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy! But I really don't think this is a good idea. I can't dance. And even if I could I don't know how—"

"I will lead, Miss Nils. You have only to follow my feet. I'm sure you will feel better once your blood has a chance to circulate more."

I didn't believe him. This was a ridiculous theory.

"No, really, you don't understand!"

The orchestra stopped and then began again at a much quicker tempo. Lucius took my hands and began to lead me through a quick step.

Well, if I collapsed it was his fault. And if I started coughing up that circulating blood on his fancy clothes, that was his fault too.

My pulse did pick up, but so did the dizziness.

Two dances later I was breathing hard—sharp gasps of too little oxygen—but I was strangely feeling better. Something felt like it was almost rushing through my veins. Something giving me more energy, lifting me higher, filling me with some sort of adrenaline rush.

My body felt invigorated in a way it hadn't in months. I felt…energized! There was a soft hum in my mind, a buzz through my systems. There was something…

Lucius spun me out and brought me back in. I looked directly into his eyes and opened my mouth to comment on my strange surge of vigor, when I got caught in his gaze.

_Shadows._ _Shadows everywhere_. His eyes were almost black with all the fear in his mind,, all the secret desires, all the pain.

Power burst out of any control I had and slid into his mind, dragging out any and all secrets he could have buried within.

_Death, Pain, so much pain. Death death. Killed. Lucius had killed. _Images swam through my brain and I couldn't contain any of it. I shoved away from the man and grabbed my head, fruitlessly attempting to block them. I wanted them out of my head. _So many lifeless bodies. Contorted, tortured bodies._

"Get out!" I shrieked and illusions hurtled from my mind onto the floor. I was suddenly stepping on severed limbs, pools of blood, dark, dark magical workings from Lucius's past tumbled out of my control, becoming real in his fear and mine.

Runes covered the polished dance floor. Crimson, demonic runes. A woman's shrieks echoed over the orchestra's chords, the destructive frequencies battling overhead.

Twirling couples broke apart. I felt hands grab my shoulders and I shoved them away. Someone lifted my head and I stared right into the brown eyes of a death eater. From his mind to mine, my power wrenched his worst memories and most abysmal fears from his subconscious and forced them on reality. Raging, growling wolves raced down the staircase to wreak havoc in the party.

Where was my control!? Why was this happening? What was wrong with me?

Power blazed in my mind, amplified beyond anything I'd ever had before. I couldn't even comprehend the level of magic storming through my head, let alone try and manage it! I jerked away and turned round and round, gaze flicking from one tortured mind to another.

This one feared rejection, this one feared pain, this one hated spiders, this one snakes, this one fire.

Shrieking animals rose up from the pits of hell, demons conjured from my imagination and theirs. Flames coursed over tapestries and food tables.

Bodies littered the floor. Every non magical boy and girl, every partial blooded soul rose from their fears and dark pasts like undead banshees, flying overhead and desecrating the ballroom with their unholy screams for revenge.

I tried to get away, tried to flee from it all. Flee from the power that was overpowering my sense of self. But there was so much fear in this room, so many sins laid bare in the light of my gift, there was nowhere safe to turn.

I knew my illusions weren't real. I knew they weren't! But these people couldn't. They saw nightmares pouring from my fingertips, from my mouth, from _me _and they cowered. Their fear fed my monsters and made them stronger. Their own demons ruled their senses and grew from their terror and I could do nothing to stop it.

So many people, so many fears!

"Get away from me!" I shrieked at the death eaters, shoving two aside only to find three more with quaking nightmares for me to take hold of and raise from the smokes chasms of brimstone.

Tears streamed down my face. What was wrong with me!? I was a monster! I was some horrible, horrible monster! This proved it! I was a terror, a demon. I was the source of all of these nightmares, the creator of the winged beasts ripping the chandelier apart. I was the cause of the screams of the guests!

I knew this and could not begin to fight it. So many people, so many people! Why were there so many people!

Smoke rose from the flames as they gained strength. The people were panicking, rushing to and fro in their attempt to escape this new reign of terror. My power raged through their souls, stripping them of every last discomfort and forcing them to crumble under its might.

There had to be somewhere I could go! Somewhere without fear, somewhere to end all of this!

Somewhere!

I finally stumbled to a wall. Sobbing, I tried to withdraw some magic, tried to bring order to the wildfire that had consumed every ounce of my mastery.

I could hear a wild laughter over the rage and wails. Rejoicing in the satanic rule that had destroyed all sense of right.

Wands were being drawn as men and women attempted to fight off what they could only kill in their minds.

Chaos. Evil, hell-spawn chaos.

They turned on me. Panic making them forget my status of safety. As they advanced more demons exploded from around me, fear for my own survival bringing shadows of nightmares form my own mind and throwing them in their path.

I tore through the party, sprinting to who knows where. I only needed the briefest glance of a pair of eyes to draw out their secret pains. It was impossible. There was no peace. I had finally died and gone to hell. This was my lake of fire and brimstone. This was my eternal punishment.

This was—

Nothing.

My eyes locked on a single pair of wild, brown eyes. Eyes with no fear, no terror. Only joy at the power, joy in her lord, joy in progression, joy in _me_.

She had absolute faith in what she was doing. She had faith in her lord and in me, and with that absolute certainty there was no room for fear.

Desperate for any bit of refuge, I threw my arms around her waist and buried my head in her shoulder, shaking violently. It was too awful. I couldn't bear it any more. No more fear. No more pain.

"Make it stop! Make it go away! Help me! Please! Oh, God please help me!"

She hesitated but then let her arms wrap slowly around me. "Do not fear, darling. We will keep you safe." My fingers tightened in her dress robes and I clenched my eyes as tightly shut as I could, trying to block out the sounds of my creations behind me.

Bellatrix Lestrange held me close, petting my hair and telling me that I was a wonderful angel. That I was blessed and she would help me understand.

Bella had no fear. Bella held only faith and love in her cause and her Dark Lord.

Bella would keep me safe.

Harry

No nightmare could ever compare to the one created by Rebecca Nils.

Nikki's shrieks for "Becky!" couldn't be heard over the screams of the death eaters as everything fell to chaos. Our infiltrating party guests immediately retreated on Moody's signal; Tonks forcefully dragging Nikki away.

I was still shaking when we returned to Headquarters. I could still see those flames rising up from nowhere, the demons hurtling out of that little blonde girl, the wolves with blood dripping from their maws standing over decapitated, ripped bodies.

Screams echoed in my ear as Mrs. Weasley placed a cup of tea in front of me. I looked over at Charlie Weasley to see the haunted expression I was sure was mirrored on my own face.

When a meeting began I declined to attend, preferring to go the bed instead. Ron and Hermione stayed with me and sat by my side.

"She's a demon." I finally told them, hands tightening in the folds of my blanket. "Straight from the pits of hell. She's a demon. If we don't stop her, we're all doomed."

"What about Nikki?" Hermione asked worriedly. I thought about the girl who had fallen silent. It was worse than her going ballistic. When Nikki had no angry words, there really was nothing that could be done.

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Whatever she sees in her friend has been destroyed by Voldemort." The silence was heavy and pained. An innocent girl had just been destroyed by a war she had never even heard of before. "Demon." I repeated with a shudder. Hermione wrapped her arms around me, but she could murmur no comforting words to drown out the screams of the damned.

* * *

Wow. I had this moment planned for a long time. It's the key turning point. What do you think? When the only person who isn't afraid, the only person who displays the love and faith in something that can truly fight off fear, is a Death Eater... what do you do? Creepy, huh?

Please Review. I'm afraid I didn't capture this all correctly.


	8. Chapter 8: Shifts in Loyalty

Just a warning, Harry does swear near the end. I do not endorse swearing in any form for any reason but I am bound to keeping to character. I apologize.

* * *

Chapter 8: Shifts in Loyalty

Rebecca

My head throbbed. It felt—and sounded—like a nest of angry hornets was buzzing around my brain and attempting to sting their way through my temples. But I guess that is what I get for letting my magic go crazy like that.

My stomach had been surprisingly quiet. After all of that stress I had expected it to rise up to a Hurricane Katrina level pain, but it hadn't. Maybe my brain was too busy coping with my migraine to even register pain elsewhere.

My head gave another painful pulse and I whimpered.

The pillows around me shifted and a cold compression was pressed against my face. It slid gently around, wiping away the sweat and tears before resting over my eyes. It was soothing. The chilled packaging kept my senses afloat and relaxed the tension out of my body.

But it wasn't nearly as comforting as the fingers that tenderly caressed my cheek and held my hand.

How could I have ever thought Bella was frightening? Her wild hair and bright eyes were not signs of insanity; they were a sign of devotion.

I had seen in her mind, I'd seen the terrible things she had done, but I couldn't equate them with the soft lullaby she was humming for me now.

Her cause was misguided, that much was true. But she had such _faith_ in it. She loved the Dark Lord, she loved her family. And love was not bad! She held so much love it had chased away all fears of loss, of personal harm, of anything really.

Bellatrix feared _nothing._ I wanted so badly to be like her. To be brave like that, to be able to stand up for what I believed in with such conviction that the very thought of failure could not even be comprehended.

Her entire subconscious was painted with that conviction, with that love. It was so inviting… so safe.

I had refused to leave her side after my episode. I couldn't look at anyone else, couldn't look at what I had done. But I could look at Bella. And she held me and had stayed with me all night as I drifted in and out of nightmares of my own making.

It didn't matter that I was a monster, that the world would hate me. Because Bellatrix was there and she was a monster too. A fallen angel was still an angel. If Bella was here, I would be okay.

Draco

I was sitting outside her room like some sort of lost puppy dog. It was ridiculous. Far below my dignity.

But I couldn't help thinking that Rebecca was in _there_. With my crazy aunt. And who knew what kind of awful lies she was being told? What kinds of stories were being made up to get her to do horrible things to further Voldemort's cause?

So since no one had told me to go anywhere I had sunk down, fancy dress robes and all, to sit on the floor in my post. She must have bewitched me or something, because this made so little sense.

That was the most terrifying night of my life. Monsters literally came out from under tables and out of shadows to attack people! Just, appeared out of nowhere! Dangerous, destroying monsters! I was going to have nightmares forever of that night. But as scared as I had been, I knew that Rebecca had been ten times as terrified. No one in that room was panicking as bad as she was. It was clear as day on her face.

But no one was going to remember that. I don't know why I even noticed it. I wanted to help her somehow. Hold her hand or something. But I couldn't do any of that, even if my aunt wasn't in the room. I was a Malfoy and we didn't do those things.

But I could sit outside her door in case…in case she called for me. Or something.

I could at least remember that she was a seventeen year old girl. That she was human too.

I could do that much.

Nicolette

I couldn't stand it. I knew there was an explanation for what had happened. There had to be. That hadn't been Becky. Not the Becky I knew. Not _my_ Becky.

What had they done to my best friend?

They were all down there trying to understand what had happened. Sitting around that little table, making plans to combat her. I wanted to yell at them. I wanted to scream and throw things and tell them that _that wasn't Becky_. But I couldn't. That was the worst part of this. I couldn't do anything.

I couldn't defend her to these people. I couldn't defend her from those people. I couldn't help my best friend at all.

So I curled up on my bed and locked the door. I couldn't even talk to Adam. Couldn't tell him that something had happened to his baby sister—something that had messed her up so bad that she had turned a ballroom into a warzone. I had seen Becky. I knew there was something wrong with her, something driving her out of control.

But I couldn't explain it to anyone. It was just a feeling. Something had been off. When I'd looked into her eyes there had been something strange in them, some unnatural thing those evil murderers had put in my Becky.

I didn't cry. I didn't storm around. I hugged a pillow to my chest and stared at my phone.

It sucked when the person you normally went to for problems had been kidnapped and possibly brainwashed.

Lamesauce.

My phone buzzed and I jumped. I snatched it off the table so fast that it slipped from my hand and went flying into the wall. Wincing, I picked it up more carefully and flipped the lid around.

_got portal b in london tmw c u ltr._

I screamed. I really did. Then I kissed my phone. Zinny would fix everything!

Someone was pounding on my door, probably alerted by my scream of joy. Turning my angry voice on, I yelled, "Nobody's home!" and then flopped down on my pillows with a smile.

"Nikki, I-" It was Harry. The traitor. He'd turned total anti-Becky now. I didn't like him anymore.

"Go to hell!" I interrupted. Once I heard his footsteps retreating from my door and responded to the text, feeling better than I had in two weeks.

Zinny was coming. I had yelled at the famous Harry Potter. Everything was going to be just fine.

Draco

"Draco, what are you doing?"

I scrambled to my feet and hurriedly brushed off my coat tails. "Just—attending my post, Aunt Bella." I stammered through my excuse and kept my eyes on the floor.

"Hm. Maybe you will be less useless than your father." I flinched but didn't respond. Bella had been thinking of my father as a failure since the Dark Lord had disappeared the first time and Lucius did nothing. After the disaster at the Ministry of Magic her opinion had been set in stone. "Stay in here with Rebecca until I return. I have been summoned to the Dark Lord's side and I don't…"

She trailed off as she glanced over her shoulder at Rebecca's room. I snuck a glance at my aunt. Was that…concern in her gaze? Was that even _possible?_

"You don't want to leave her alone?" I guessed, my shock loosening my tongue.

Bella rounded on me and looked like she wanted to say something nasty but the response died in her mouth. She only nodded and then swept past me.

Dumbfounded, I stayed where I was for almost an entire minute before I pushed the door open and walked in. Sometime during the night Rebecca had changed out of her ballroom attire. It was ruined anyway. She now wore a much lighter cotton shift. She was sitting on the bed, tangled hair a blonde rat's nest.

I sat down next to her and neither of us said anything for a horrible long time.

Finally, feeling stupid as I did so, I muttered. "Morning."

She refused to look at me as she responded in kind and made no move to further the conversation.

I tried again. "So, some party last night. You should go into the entertainment industry. They could use your talents."

She snorted.

This was annoying. I had spent the entire night sitting outside her room when I didn't have to. The least she could do it be grateful! Even if she didn't know I was there, she should have!

"Are you mad at me, or something?" I demanded. Her eyes got so wide and confused that I almost felt bad for snapping. Almost.

"Mad at _you?_ Are you kidding?" She turned desperate eyes on me. "How could I be mad at you? What have you ever done to me?"

Well, I injected a strange drug into your system so you couldn't control your powers.

"Nothing."

"Aren't you mad at me?" She turned her eyes away, apparently not wanting to see what I really felt by looking into my eyes. She looked so…lonely. Curled in on herself, trying to both hide from the world and hide the world from herself.

I reached out and turned her chin so she was looking at me. "No, no I'm not."

The dramatic relief in her face was painful to see. She shouldn't care that much what I thought. I was nothing.

"Draco, I hurt people. I probably hurt you."

I shrugged. "It happens. Hey now, last night was a fluke. You'll learn to control it."

Her eyes hardened and she nodded. "Yes, I will. I have to." Her tone was suddenly so strong, so definitive that I got a little nervous. No matter what it took, Rebecca Nils would learn what she needed to. The first stage of the Dark Lord's plan had been more than successful. I felt sick.

There was a knock at the door and Voldemort and Bella came in. I scrambled off the bed and bowed to the Dark Lord. He waved me off and approached Rebecca. Bella had gone to the other side of the bed and was holding her hand.

Rebecca gazed at Bella like she was the angel sent to answer all her prayers. My throat felt dry. That was more than a simple, 'Thank you for staying with me all night' look. It was almost worshipping. Bella had become the girl's _hero_.

This was bad. Bellatrix Lestrange was a bad person to idolize. A bad, bad person.

"Miss Nils, I am overjoyed to hear that you have chosen to stay on with us and learn what we can teach you." The Dark Lord smiled over at her. She nervously returned the smile.

At least she didn't think Voldemort was Mr. Fantastic. But with Bella as a tutor it was only a matter of time.

"We have a technique we would like you to try, if you are willing. It involves a room we have been experimenting with. One that sort of mirrors your powers. We call it the Nightmare Chamber." He pulled up a chair and settled himself into it, like any old house guest might. Ha. "It creates the atmosphere of one's worst fear, but your mind should be able to overcome the room's spells and alter it however you wish. It is my belief that this easily moldable reality will be a perfect practice zone for your exquisite talents. It will also allow you to face your own fears so you can better manage the fears of others. Remember, we will never make you do something you don't want to."

I stayed perfectly still. The nightmare chamber had been my assignment before Rebecca. I brought prisoners in and out. I'd seen many a wizard come out a quivering mess. I had caught glimpses of their worst nightmares. It was like a little, personalized pocket of hell. I got the willies just thinking about it.

Rebecca looked nervous, but her determination to control her powers was stronger. She nodded her consent.

"Excellent! I'm afraid I will be too busy to oversee your specific training, but Bella and Draco will assist you in any way they can." He stood up and ambled over to Rebecca to cup her face in his hands, as if he were just any adult she could trust. "I promise you will find this helpful." He kissed her forehead lightly and then strode from the room.

I let out my breath and turned to look at my aunt and her pupil. Rebecca's eyes still shone with that hero-worship any time she looked at Bella. Bella stroked her hair. I couldn't decide if Bella looked at Rebecca like a mother who had just found a lost child or a cat who just found a mouse to play with.

"Can we go now?" Rebecca asked. I wanted to say no, but Bella nodded and gave me an expectant look.

I managed to keep from sighing. "Follow me." I muttered and led them through the Malfoy Manor's extensive halls. The Nightmare Chamber was underground, in the area we fondly called the dungeons. I didn't tell that to Rebecca though. I wasn't sure how long her confidence would keep up.

Bella explained the schedule of how the 'lessons' would work as we walked.

The entrance isn't much to look at. It's just a door. But it's the most evil door I have ever had the misfortune of opening. It's set into the stone and has a few one-way windows on the sides that can be uncovered for the guards to watch if they were sick and twisted and enjoyed watching people being tortured by their own minds.

"Ready?" I asked her as I reached for the door. She nodded mutely. I pulled it open and she stepped through the entrance. I closed it behind her and looked over at my aunt. It was probably the only time we would ever share a common sentiment.

The room would take a few minutes to orient itself so I called a house elf to bring us a few chairs.

I hoped she wouldn't scream. Rebecca's regular nightmares were the worst I'd ever heard of. I couldn't even imagine what her _worst_ nightmare could be.

"We give her a few hours by herself. Then I start teaching." Bella reiterated. I didn't need to hear it but I think she did. Bella had a heart. Who knew?

Harry

Knocking on Nikki's door wasn't working. If it didn't work this time I was going to blast it open. We needed her help whether she wanted to give it to us or not!

Adam was nice and willing to help where he could, but his knowledge of his sister's powers was limited. He knew plenty about the girl's feelings about her powers but the actual mechanics behind them wasn't something he knew much about.

We needed facts. Not her _feelings_. Her feelings had become moot when she had gone crazy last night. As much as I hated to admit it, we had to consider Rebecca Nils to be a death eater.

And Nikki was the only one here who could give us the information we needed and she wouldn't open her dang door!

I banged on it for good measure, received the usual "go away," and then unlocked it with my wand.

"Nikki! We _need_ to talk!" I glared at her. She was sitting on the bed, flipping through a book.

A book! Reality was crashing around our heads and she was reading some trashy novel! It was ridiculous!

"I don't really want to talk to you." She told me with a frown. "And I'll thank you to not break my door open."

My temper flared but I tried to keep cool. "Look, you saw what I did. You saw what she did! We have to stop her!"

"And what she are we talking about, Mr. Potter? Do you mean the she that came over from California hoping that maybe someone here could help her only to be kidnapped for the vile purposes of some dark legion in a war she has nothing to do with? _That_ she? Because _that_ she has a name." Nikki had snapped her book shut and leaped to her feet.

I was a bit disgruntled to find her nearly the same height as me. I would rather have towered over her.

"_Rebecca Nils_ could destroy us all! And you could help us keep that from happening! What, do you think once Voldemort is done with England he'll just stay there? He's going to keep going and he's going to use your bloody friend to do it! She has to be removed from the equation!" I yelled.

Nikki's brown eyes narrowed at me. "_Removed from the equation!? _Excuse me!?"

"You know what I mean!"

"No, Harry, I don't. It sounds to me like you want to know Becky's weaknesses so you can kill her. And I know that had better not be what you mean because I swear to God if you so much as try to hurt her I will kill you first." Her ring had started to flash as she threatened me. I stood my ground.

"This is the entire world on the line here! Are you really going to defend someone who could potentially destroy all of civilization because you two had some great sleepovers together!?" Sparks shot out of my own wand, scalding the wood floor.

Nikki's eyes were getting darker by the minute. "You don't know the half of it! What if it were your friends!? What if Ron or Hermione had been kidnapped and you _knew_ they weren't at fault for what was going on? What then, Potter? Would you give out their secrets so some little boy wonder could run in and destroy them!?" Nikki's eyes were nearly black now.

I ground my teeth. I thought she might bring this up. "I would do what I have to for the greater good! Exactly what you should be doing! You're a selfish brat; you don't care about anything but what's in your little world! You don't care about the people who will die because of you! You don't care about any of that! And your friend is probably just as bad! She could care less about what happens to everyone outside your little bubble! You make me sick, you're such a—"

Her fist collided with my nose. I heard a crunch and then I was tossed into the air and slammed against the wall across the hallway. I slipped down, nose broken and bleeding.

Nikki's face was livid, her arms trembled with rage.

"You don't know anything!" She shrieked, advancing on me. I snatched up my wand and aimed it at her. She ignored it. "Say anything else and I will break more than your nose!"

This had gotten way out of hand, but I was so mad. I hadn't slept at all last night and I was facing certain doom if this stubborn girl did not tell me what I needed to know! She did _not_ scare me.

"You're a _bitch_." I growled. She lunged at me but I shot a silent stunning spell towards her.

Nikki caught it in her hand—the one with the ring—and threw it back at me. I dodged and it smashed into the wall behind me. I'd never seen a technique like that before. How had she done that?

"Try it again, Potter! I'll take anything you have!"

I was ready to hit her again—and about to!—when ropes sprang up around her.

"Harry! What's going on here!?" It was Remus, followed quickly by Tonks and Ginny.

I tried to talk but between my broken nose and my raging thought pattern it came out in an incomprehensible mass of angry splutters. Remus told me to go into the kitchen and have Molly fix my nose.

I looked at the bound blonde and managed to say clearly enough around my nose, "If Voldemort wins, it will be your fault!"

Nikki ripped her hand through the ropes and shrieked some spell I didn't recognize at me. Tonks threw up a shield and the black jet of light glanced off to burn a hole through the wall.

"Nikki! That's enough!" Remus roared at her. "Harry, go!"

Ginny glanced between me and Nikki. I hoped she would come with me but she turned away and stepped up to the Californian.

Feeling worse than ever, I trudged into the kitchen. Everyone there had already heard the ruckus and I was greeted with a chorus of gasps.

"Oi! Harry, what happened!?" Charlie asked in shock.

I waved him away. Mrs. Weasley bustled over and immediately began working healing charms on my face. I could hear shouting and slamming doors up the stairs but I didn't really care what was going on there.

I would find another way to defeat Rebecca Nils. Even if I had to beat Nikki Peggan to do it.

* * *

I told myself I wasn't allowed to go to bed until this was finished. So here it is, at 12:30 AM. I feel very productive.

Review?


	9. Chapter 9: A Black Hope

Chapter 9: A Black Hope

Draco

I admit it. I was terrified to enter that room. It was more ready to personally hand the Dark Lord my resignation letter than open that door. Rebecca had been in the chamber for a few hours and it was time to feed her. But that involved going _in_. I'd been in one of her regular nightmares and that had probably shaved several years off of my life. Anything could be beyond this door. I fully expected to step through the threshold and land in hell itself.

I might have felt embarrassed about looking so terrified in front of a house elf, but the ugly little thing was shaking so badly the cups were rattling on the tray I had made him carry. I felt a bit more courageous knowing I could still order a servant around. One bit of normality in the chaos.

I barked at the elf to keep still and told him he would be severely punished if anything spilled. It made me feel more in control, more capable of responding to whatever was inside that room.

With a growl of determination I grabbed the handle, yanked the wooden barrier open, and stormed into the room, ready to face whatever bloody monster had been conjured out of the stupid girl's imagination.

I went so far as to draw my wand defensively and let out a courage-inducing manly roar.

Nothing jumped out to attack me from the shadows. In fact, there really weren't many shadows at all. Wherever I was seemed to be fairly well lit by those muggle florescent lights, even if they did buzz a little.

I looked around and found Rebecca seated on a counter, legs drawn up. She was looking very amused.

I realized I was still brandishing my wand and with all the dignity I could muster, slid the stick back into my robe pocket and straightened. I gave the girl my best, holier-than-thou look and spoke in the most derisive tone I had at my disposal.

"What the hell is this?"

"Not hell." She answered, unfazed by my intimidating figure. "Just the hallway to hell."

I looked up and down the corridor. It was indeed a hallway. I couldn't see the end but I guess it extended forever. The walls and floors were tiled and numbered doors lined the walls. The counter Rebecca was sitting on was connected to a sink. Her head was leaning against a blank bulletin board. A scale was stationed next to the counter.

The house elf decided it was safe to step in and carefully set the tray of sandwiches next to Rebecca. She thanked it and the thing skittered away as fast as it could.

Rebecca's smile faded and she sighed. "I'm going to get that a lot, aren't I?"

People running in terror from your vary presence? Yes, yes you would.

I didn't tell her that though. I was too busy trying to figure out just what was so terrifying about a hallway to discuss anything else.

"I'm guessing these are for me?" Rebecca was looking at me and pointing at the sandwiches. I nodded and she picked one up.

Her nonchalance irked me. I tried to get her talking by being insulting. "This is your greatest fear? This? Really? You're afraid of _hallways?_" I scoffed.

Her blue eyes flicked down to each end and then she shrugged. "Apparently."

"Apparently!?" I stared at her incredulously. "This is the Nightmare Chamber! I've seen grown men run screaming from this place, begging to be released from the horror!"

She sighed. "They probably have more conventional fears. Like spiders or heights or something."

I needed a sandwich. I snatched one up and propped myself up next to her and chewed agitatedly. When I swallowed I asked, "So what's wrong with you? Room too long?"

I earned a glare for that. "I don't make fun of your fear of needles."

She earned a harder glare.

I automatically denied it like any good Malfoy. "I am not afraid of needles!" But then her dry expression reminded me of just who it was I was talking to. Creepy little Miss I-Can-See-Everything-You're-Afraid-Of. I tried to make up some ground. "I have a healthy aversion to being punctured, okay?"

She smirked and took another bite.

"It's a natural fear! Lots of people are uncomfortable around needles!" I continued. She was not allowed to be amused at my pain! She was supposed to be cowering here! "Not like this stupid thing. What is it anyway?"

If I was expecting her to get angry I was disappointed. She chewed thoughtfully, leaving me pondering without a guide for nearly a minute. I almost asked again when she spoke, "This is a hospital hallway."

Oh. Well, that explained _everything_. Because hospital hallways were _so_ vicious.

I mean, I guess she was sick and had probably spent a lot of time in hospitals but you would think she would be concerned about the hospital _room_, with the bed and the sad looking doctor. Not the _hallway _for heaven's sake.

"_So_?"

She took forever to respond again. "So…I don't know. I mean, I've been here. I'm assuming down that way is a room with a bunch of X-ray machines and bottles of Barium set up for an esophogram. But I'm not…_afraid_ of it. I didn't think I was anyway."

There were several words in that sentence I didn't understand. But my pride was still stinging from her needle jibe and I wasn't about to give her something else to get me with.

"Then what is this supposed to be?"

"Horribly uncomfortable, for one thing." Her now empty hands clamped over her eyes. "These lights are killing me. The white tile makes everything worse." She dragged out the words in a whine. But I could tell she was making a big deal about a smaller detail to hide the real issue.

I sighed and reached over to drag her hands away from her eyes so she would look at me. "I find it hard to believe you are so terrified of mild discomfort that it would surface as your greatest fear."

Her blue eyes refused to meet mine, choosing instead to focus on her shoes. "It's not mild. It's torture." She muttered.

But I could tell that wasn't the issue. Sure, she hated these lights. And I fully believed they were very painful for her. However, there was no way it was the central problem. I refused to believe it.

"Rebecca, if you're going to control your powers you need to face your fears. The first step is being able to talk about it." I put my fingers under her chin and gently turned her face to look at me. I wasn't really sure where I was getting these wise words of bravery from, but I hoped it helped. I sort of felt like I was getting away with something. I was helping her along Voldemort's plan, but I was also being an almost decent person. Eat that, Dark Lord.

She removed my hand from her face but held it in hers. "The problem is I'm not really sure what it is. Some things get buried so deeply you don't even recognize them when they're staring right at you." Her eyes grew distant as they traveled over the tiled walls, taking inventory of things she couldn't comprehend.

"Try. Try to dig it up." I urged, squeezing her fingers in support.

"I'm only guessing." She warned. "It's…nothing. Not like, nothing, but like there is nothing here. There's no point to anything. All I do will amount to nothing. There is no hope."

Her eyes had grown misty but she wasn't really crying, just sad. "When you entered my nightmare you missed the important part. You missed the part where everyone left me. The fires, the wolves, all the death and destruction, that isn't what I wake up crying because of. It's that no one is there with me. I'm scared, I'm hurting, and I'm all alone. That's what this hallway is. Locked doors and endless pain with nothing more. No hope. Nothing."

A few tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes but she didn't seem to notice until I reached over to brush them away. "That was a pretty good guess." I said, trying to lighten the tension.

She laughed shortly and nodded. "Yeah."

"Is that really it?" I asked. She nodded again. "Wow. That was pretty deep. What brought that on? Bad abandonment experience when you were little?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Not really. I don't know why I'm scared of that. It's stupid. It's worse than being afraid of spiders. At least that makes _sense_. This is just pathetic."

I thought it made perfect sense. I mean, I was considered pretty unimportant and the likelihood of being abandoned in some awful place after being tortured was pretty high. But she hadn't spent the last few years like I had.

I wanted to tell her it wasn't stupid. That her fears were completely justified. That she should never think that her feelings didn't matter. That they were not something she should cast away and bury.

But I couldn't. The words wouldn't come.

Instead, like a coward, I patted her arm and went to tell Bella that she was ready.

Ginny

I'm not sure how this happened. One minute I was talking to Nikki about my break-up with Harry and we were collectively bashing his heroic idiocy and the next I was offering to go to London for her.

The older order members had confined her to her room and placed wards on the doorway to keep her in. They had apparently decided the blonde was a belligerent and needed to be contained. Adam Nils was being watched carefully for similar signs of aggressive behavior. It was ridiculous.

I couldn't think of one person in that creepy old house who wouldn't react the same way to what Harry had said. Any one of my siblings would have decked him without a second thought. I certainly wanted to.

Every day Harry got more and more dedicated to destroying Voldemort. It's all he lives for now. The moment when he finally rescues the world and saves us all from terror is supposedly the day when he will return to real life. As it is he gets so focused on the greater good and self-sacrifice that he forgets that he isn't the only one who suffers. He forgets that we're human too.

He would never admit it, of course. He'd go on about how many people die each day and how very aware he is that it is his fault. And I'm sure he fully believes that, but I don't think he really comprehends it.

I loved Harry. I still do. It hurt more than anything when he left me.

He doesn't think I'm strong enough for this though. He doesn't think I can handle everything he is dealing with. Wasn't I there when we went to the Ministry of Magic in my fourth year? Hadn't I held my own against the death eaters? I could fight!

That was probably what sent me to London for Nikki. I needed to prove that I wasn't weak, that I could contribute. That Harry Potter wasn't the only one who could fight Voldemort.

But it was more than that. I understood better than the Order did what it was the Dark Lord was doing to Rebecca Nils. They didn't realize how charming and inviting he could be. I remembered very vividly my time with Tom Riddle's diary—at least, I remember the parts where I wasn't possessed. He was going to make her do things and she won't understand why, but she will want to. Because he could offer everything she ever wanted and it was going to seem so simple, so harmless. She won't even know what was happening until it's too late.

And I couldn't let her be punished for something like that. So when Nikki said someone was in London that could help, I jumped up and volunteered to go.

I told my parents I was visiting Fred and George at their shop. They were rather conveniently placed for such things. And so I had jumped through the Floo Network, Rebecca's phone in my pocket.

Nikki had given me quick instructions on its basic functions so she could communicate with me and Professor Zinnober. Most people in the order were not used to thinking in terms of muggle devices, so until it occurred to them, Nikki still had access to her 'sidekick'. Whatever that meant.

"_Do you see him yet?" _ Nikki asked. I kept the phone at my ear. I felt like an idiot talking into it so all my responses had been short and hissed.

"No."

"_He said the ice cream parlor!"_

I was sitting under one of the umbrellas, trying to eat my two sprinkled scoops as slowly as possible. "I'm there. I don't see anyone."

There were a few people ambling about, but these were scary times and most people didn't want to sit and eat ice cream. I really shouldn't be there, with my distinctive red hair and such. I kept my wand within easy reach. I was underage and couldn't really use magic but I felt better with it in sight.

There was one man who looked promising, with a fedora pulled far down to disguise his face, but he kept going without stopping. I sighed.

"Are you sure you told him to look for me and not you?"

"_Yes._"

"Excuse me?"

I jumped when the male voice came not from the thing by my ear but from behind me. I spun around in shock and the phone slipped from my fingers. A quick hand caught it and inspected it carefully.

"Becky would not appreciate you breaking this. Though it would not be the first time." He said softly before pressing it to his ear. "Nikki?"

I relaxed. This had to be the professor I was waiting for. He wasn't much to look at. He stood just under two meters, a stout figure with baggy clothes. He had thrown some sort of monk's robe over his regular clothes, but I knew someone might notice and then we could be in trouble.

He finished talking to Nikki and closed the phone. Professor Zinnober was at least late forties if not early fifties, with his graying hair and wrinkling hands.

"You're Ginny?" He asked me in a quiet, gravelling voice. It was on the verge of that friendly-grandpa kind of sound. Or perhaps he had just been a smoker when he was younger.

I nodded. "We should go. I'll take you back to my brothers' shop. We can talk there."

I took him down Diagon Alley and into a backroom. With a warning not to touch anything—for safety's sake—I led him to a backroom where we could safely discuss what was going on. I brought him up to speed on the developments of the ball and Nikki's reactions. He listened patiently and said nothing until I was done.

"I should have known Nikki would make someone bleed. That girl needs a handler. Usually it's Becky." His voice was joking but his face was hard. He sighed and rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. "Well. I suppose I shall have to fill that role. Miss Weasley, would you be so kind as to escort me to your headquarters?"

I was breaking about a hundred rules but if there was a chance for this to work I would go for it.

"Come with me, Professor."

Nicolette

The idiots screamed at Ginny for over an hour before locking her in a room. Ginny held her own, screaming her own defenses back until they banished her to the room she shared with Hermione. I wasn't allowed out of my own jail cell yet but I could hear them very well.

It was several hours before they dragged me out to a big meeting with Zinny.

They'd been interrogating him but my professor barely looked ruffled. His hair was a little disheveled and he wore loose, borrowed clothing but otherwise seemed unharmed. I have never been so happy to see him in my life.

"Zinny!" I yelled, breaking free from my captors and rushing to hug him.

"Hey there. I hear you've been getting into trouble."

I pulled back and rolled my eyes. "No more than usual."

"That's what I was afraid of." He gave me a lazy grin and then asked Tonks if the briefcase he had brought could be returned to him.

Everyone but Bill and Tonks (who stood behind Zinny with wands at the ready) took their seats around the table. Potter and his friends glowered at me from their side. I was pleased to note that his nose was slightly crooked but I hid it under my own glare. I sat beside my teacher and gave him an attentive look.

Adam entered and shook Zinny's hand. He hadn't met the man before today, but Becky's brother was too friendly to let that stop him.

Snape called the meeting to order and I sat down next to my professor. After the introductions Zinny thanked them for having him, just like they were any public audience and not a bunch of robed cultists plotting to kill one of his students. I suppose that's why they were even giving him this audience. He was respectful and understanding. As opposed to me. I would have just demanded it. No wonder he liked Becky better than me.

"I have been informed that one of my students has become an object of concern for you." He began with a light smirk. "I have been working with Rebecca for some time now, trying to help her understand and control her powers. Unfortunately, we have not been as successful as either of us would like. But I do have many insights into what she is that may interest you."

I frowned. What was he doing? Was he going to help them hurt her?

"I am guessing that you are all well trained in Occlumency?" There was a series of nods. "A wise endeavor, but it will not help you at all. Occlumency protects your conscious mind. Rebecca's abilities are directed to the subconscious. If there is a defense against her I don't know it."

This stirred some murmurings. Years of teaching gave Zinny the skills to quiet them back down.

"She will get into your mind and you won't be able to stop her. But whether what she pulls out affects you is in your control." Everyone perked up at this. "Fear has as much power as you give it. The bigger you allow your belief in something's ability to hurt you to be, the more power it has. The more you believe in the illusions she creates the more real they are. Does that make sense?"

"So if we don't believe she can hurt us she can't?" Potter spoke up, asking for clarification.

Zinny nodded. "Essentially. It's more difficult than it sounds though. You really have to fully believe that what you can see and sense in front of you is not real. The human brain has difficulty comprehending that sort of thing. It would be like convincing yourself that the chair you are sitting on does not exist. Very few people can do that."

Ron Weasley glanced at his chair in discomfort.

"I don't say this to frighten you, simply to forewarn you. If you cannot control your own fears you have no hope in defeating her, should this conflict come to that." He started to open up his briefcase. "In light of that, I would say your best bet is to remove the forces pushing her against you."

"Easier said than done. Our attempts to remove her have failed."

Zinny nodded slowly. "Which is why I have brought you a weapon of sorts." He first set a vial of an inky black liquid on the table and then began assembling a handgun.

Bill lifted his wand and pointed it at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"A demonstration. You have my word that no one will be hurt. Nikki, would you coat this bullet in the substance? Speed things along a bit."

I took the offered metal piece gingerly and then uncorked the vial. The smell that rose from it slithered into my nose and made me shudder. An acidic mix of melted tar and blood. I held it at arm's length and glanced up at Zinny in concern. "You brought Becky's final project?"

"Not exactly." The gun segments snicked into place. He reached over to toss me a pair of gloved. "Coat the bullet."

After sliding the plain gardening gloves over my fingers, I gingerly let the nasty substance spread over and sink into the deadly projectile. It was like watching an amoeba stretching and enveloping the brassy edge. The brassy sides disappeared into a dark sheen. I shoved the thing back to Zinny, wanting it to be as far from me as possible.

Zinny, wearing his own pair of gardening gloves, loaded two bullets into the gun: a normal brassy one and the dark one. He then removed a glass vase from the brief case and glanced around the room.

"Is there a table no one cares about? Or a chair? Any surface really."

Remus left and brought in a rickety old stool on which Zinny gently set the vase.

He turned back to the two order members who were still aiming their wands at him.

"Would one of you be so kind as to put a shield charm around this vase? The strongest one you have, please."

People were shifting nervously. For once I was right along with them. Becky's idea for this substance was genius, but the finished product always gave me the willies.

After exchanging confused glances with Bill, Tonks stepped forward and placed a bubble around it.

"Might I ask what you are doing?" Snape spoke up from his seat at the head of the table.

Zinny lifted the gun and aimed it at the vase. "The black substance you saw Nikki use is something classified individuals like to call anti-magic. Now, this first bullet is an average non-magic metal piece."

I clapped my hands over my ears as the shot rang out. Several people swore and rubbed at their ears. Zinny scooped up the bullet's shell and set it on the table for everyone to see. The end was smashed in where it had hit the shield and collapsed.

"Sorry, I should have warned you. I forgot that you do things differently in this country. Notice how the magic has repelled the bullet and protected the vase. Normally we would use spelled bullets that will hopefully overpower a magic shield like this. But recently we have been developing this anti-magic stuff. Instead of attempting to compensate for the magical barrier, we dismantle it. The theory is to create an opposite force to the magic that will cancel it out. Sort of like when completely destructive sound waves hit. Watch."

This time we were prepared for the sound and covered our ears before the shot.

Zinny lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. The shield disappeared as it connected with the bullet. The vase shattered, shards of it flying across the room. The bullet continued through the stool and into the floor, burrowing through any spells that had been placed on the wooden boards.

Silence filled the room as the magnitude of what had happened registered.

"It just…cuts through magic." Hermione spoke in a shaking voice.

"Complete destruction." Zinny started to disassemble the weapon, setting each part back into the briefcase. He was perfectly calm. "I have brought enough materials to make two more bullets. Consider this the American government's attempt to assist you in your battles."

"Why are you helping us?" Potter asked, face pale.

Zinny closed the briefcase and snapped the locks shut. "Because an American citizen is trapped in your war. Because if she is not rescued and your problem contained this could spread to the rest of the world and American government will not tolerate another Hitler."

"So you are giving us this weapon?" Snape asked. His face was nonplused and his voice was level, but I could see his eyes darting nervously from the broken vase to the gun.

"To an extent. I will make it for you but you will not get the actual formula. Now, it is a delicate process and may take several weeks, I will require the use of an alchemist's room. Also, a broom. I have made a mess of the floor."

Potter came over and shook Zinny's hand, excitement and hope shining in his green eyes. "Thank you, sir. Thank you."

My hands clenched under the table and I stared at the shattered glass, dread seeping through my body. Molly took to sweeping the floor while Remus brought Zinny to a place where he could make the anti-magic in peace. People trickled out of the room, excitedly whispering about the very real possibility of defeating Voldemort.

Zinny was making two bullets. It would only take one to kill Voldemort.

And that left one for Becky.

Potter met my gaze as he left the room and I knew he was thinking the same exact thing. If I didn't do something, my best friend would be gone. By bringing Zinny here to help I might have just sealed her doom.

My eyes flicked to Adam's. He knew it too. I opened my mouth to tell him how sorry I was, something. Anything to make it better. But nothing could be said and my mouth went dry. He placed one of his enormous hands on my shoulder and nodded. He understood. He knew.

"Faith." He said softly, voice croaking ever so slightly. "Faith."

He was right, of course. I needed to have faith in God, in Becky, in Zinny.

But it's easier to believe in the dark things than in the light.

What had I done?


	10. Chapter 10: Nightmaric Truth

A/N: So, you know that old excuse of, "School's starting and I just haven't had time" that everyone uses around this time of year? Yeah, I'm going to use it. Because I really haven't had much time for anything since the first week of August when band camp started. School began the following week.

What you see now is the collection of what I was able to right during government and band and any other scrap of time I could find. So if it seems choppy and not as awesome as it should be, blame it on the fact that I was listening to lectures on basic music theory, reeds, and democracy.

As it is I decided to end the chapter early so I could finally get _something_ up. So there may be a really short but important chapter coming up in a relatively short amount of time. Assuming all things go according to plan.

So...here it is.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Nightmaric Truth**

* * *

Nicolette 

* * *

Zinny was consulting his notes and writing out a list of instructions for his 'helpers.' I stood in the doorway and glared at him. He continued on, unperturbed by the ferocity of my livid expression.

He knew I was there. I had been standing there for several minutes after all, glaring all the while. It wasn't really my style to be quiet and brooding and passive-aggressive. Mostly I was a yell and scream and break things kind of angry person. But that wasn't getting me anywhere and whether or not we were in school this was still my Professor and he held a sort of authority you couldn't throw things at.

So I glared and waited to be noticed.

Impatiently.

After a while he sighed, turned, and leaned against the desk he had been writing on. "Nikki, I know you're upset."

_You think, genius?_

"Does Becky know you stole her project?" I growled. Just because I couldn't actually yell at him doesn't mean I couldn't be snarky and biting.

"She probably was aware that I took her idea but she might have forgotten it. However I didn't steal anything."

"It was her project! She came up with the idea, balanced all the equations, made it work!"

Becky had worked all year on that assignment. I had spent many all-nighters watching her fix things as I half-heartedly did my own homework, occasionally reminding her that she needed food. Her dedication to that project had been outstanding. She hadn't done anything nearly that good this year on account of her sickness, but it would have been hard to top that anyway. The anti-magic solution was an amazing feat of alchemical work. And now it was going to be used to kill her. All because this man had sold her genius out.

"And also signed the lease allowing the school to take her idea to an official that could put it to good use." Zinny replied. My brain momentarily stumbled over this fact, but only for a moment. He was giving me that look that adults liked to give me. The one that said 'She'll calm down once we've shown her how stupid she's being.' It just made me angrier.

"What lease?"

Zinny had the nerve to smile. "The one you all signed halfway through the year when I officially gave you the project. That paper all you students took home, signed, and never actually read? I explained it in class, I'm fairly certain Becky was the only one to hear me though. It was entirely optional. There was even a section about it in the syllabus. That other document no one ever reads."

I didn't remember this but unfortunately it was more than likely. I stuck with being stubborn though. "Minors can't sign contracts." I grumbled.

"Your parents, who also did not read the paper, signed the lease as well." He paused, a thoughtful look coming over his face. "Unless of course those signatures were forged. Which is possible."

Even more likely. I happened to be very good at forging my parents' signatures. I had to concede to that and just fall back to what I really was complaining about. "You can't let them hurt her!"

Zinny stood up and crossed the small potions brewery to put his hands on my shoulders. I wanted to jerk away and be indignant, but his firm grip was absurdly comforting. I respected and trusted Professor Zinnober. He was a good teacher and a good man. My shoulders sagged and I avoided his gaze. I spoke again in a much quieter tone, barely a defeated whisper. "They want to kill her. You're giving them the chance."

Zinny didn't talk down to me or lie to me about how everything would be okay. He respected me as an almost-adult. He cupped my chin in his hand and angled my eyes back towards him. "Sometimes we just have to hope that people will make the right choice. We have to believe in these people. I am making two bullets because someone might miss, not because I want them to kill Becky. Do you believe me?"

I shrugged. "I believe you. I don't believe _them_."

He sighed and withdrew. "Nikki, I'm going to be completely honest with you. I want you to believe how much this hurts me. Becky is a wonderful girl. I love her just as much as you do."

I snorted and muttered a quick 'not likely' which he ignored and continued to speak.

"Part of growing up is realizing that some things aren't what we want them to be. And as great and kind a person as Becky is, there is a chance that she could pick the wrong path. You yell and scream about these people being in the wrong, but never once has it occurred to you that _you_ might be wrong."

"I'm not wrong!" I shouted at him, interrupting his speech. I did not want to be lectured. I wanted… I didn't know what I wanted. I wanted to do something. I wanted Zinny to do something. He was a teacher for heaven's sake! He was supposed to have the right answer! This was not the right answer!

"No, Nikki. You aren't wrong. You care about your friend and will defend her to the very end. That is not wrong."

I gave him a sharp look, trying to figure out his angle. How could he agree with me and be against me at the same time? "So you agree with me?"

Zinny walked back towards his work table and sat down. There was an extra chair that he gestured for me to take. I hesitantly lowered myself into the seat and then slouched back, folding my arms and refocusing my glare.

"Nikki, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to be an adult. This is not a black and white issue."

"Either she dies or she doesn't. Seems pretty simple to me." I interrupted.

He sighed and shook his head. "Nikki, you have to realize that these people aren't wrong." He began fiddling with his alchemy items. Hs face was just becoming wrinkled and the creases grew deeper as his expression became pained. "I need you to let go of the 'I'm right and you're wrong' attitude for just a minute. They have to defend their entire country from this threat, not just worry about one girl. And in the global perspective, that is all Becky is. Think about it. If she does choose wrongly, which is a possibility, then it is not just England that is in danger. This Voldemort character is not just going to settle for this tiny island. This could build into a much bigger threat."

I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. Part of my resolve was crumbling though. I'm stubborn and unreasonable, but there is a point where logic wins. It was true. If this turned into a large terrorist threat than who knew what horrible things might happen. How many hundreds of people would die. What horrors might await other people I care about. I'd seen Becky's nightmares, been terrified by them.

But I could not accept that she could turn evil. It was impossible. If Becky could not stay good, then what hope was there for the rest of us?

No, I would not believe that.

It just couldn't be.

…Could it?

"No. Becky wouldn't do that." I bit down on my knowledge of that irrevocable truth and held fast.

Zinny let out a long sigh. "Nikki, I'm going to ask a lot of you right now. I want you to keep your faith in your friend. Do not let anyone take that from you. But you are going to have to grow really fast right now. Not every story has a happy ending. It is time for you to be an adult and recognize that. Becky may very well die, but if this threat it not eliminated, it will be much worse for everyone."

"What are you saying?" I asked, throat tightening. No, no, no. This could not be right.

"Sometimes the best thing is not the right thing. Sometimes people die. I want you to keep hold of your hope, but you need to live in reality. This is not just a petty squabble, this is a war. Causalities happen to innocent people." He paused and I could see the pain in his eyes. He didn't want this to be true, but it was. He didn't want to be the one to break down my childlike distinctions of good and bad. But he had to step up and be the adult.

"Isn't there another way?" I asked quietly, my suddenly heavy heart weighing my tone down to barely a whimper.

Zinny shrugged. "I don't know. But this is the way we're going."

I nodded and rose from my seat. "How long will it take you?" I asked.

"A couple weeks. A month at most. You know, you're missing school now."

He was trying to be amusing, trying to draw out my defiant spirit. But it was half-hearted and came out more as a flat statement than an engaging quip. My doleful expression did not change. Tone even and unamused, I responded. "Professor, my best friend is about to be sacrificed for a war she was never supposed to a part of. I could care less about school."

I headed for the door. Zinny called out to me, "Nikki, I'm sorry. The world is asking too much of you."

I waved away the words of wisdom I knew were coming and exited.

Was this what it meant to grow up and be an adult? Making the choice to let people get hurt for other people? To know when to retreat? To let there be a sacrifice?

Maybe Peter Pan had something going for him. I did not want to grow up. I wanted a happy ending. I wanted my best friend to live.

Zinny had told me to keep hoping, but that it would likely be futile. How did someone uphold a paradox like that? How do you hope for something you know can't happen?

Everyone becomes an adult sometime. I was seventeen.

* * *

Draco

* * *

How do you make a monster? How do you turn something so intrinsically good into an object of fear and destruction? How do you turn a person—a good, kind-hearted, happy person—away from everything they believe in and send them down to darkness? How do you destroy the light in someone?

All questions the Dark Lord has answered. He's done it countless times. Taken great people and forced them into his personal slaves. He destroys their will, their conscience, their ability to see the truth. He blinds them with promises that they're doing the right thing and wraps his influence around them like a constricting snake until there is no chance they can escape. By the time they realize that they've turned down the wrong path, it is too late.

I've seen the results of the Dark Lord's power. I've watched ghosts of men wander the halls, existing only to follow the next command. How did he do it? How did he turn decent people into mongrels? Filthy, pathetic mongrels?

And more importantly, how did one resist him?

I didn't know. All I knew was it hurt to watch it happening. I knew so many people who had already been turned, but I had never actually watched the process. It was painful.

In one respect I could actually see the changes in Rebecca. Her physical being was different. For one thing she was mysteriously healthier. Her pale cheeks filled with color and her eyes lit up with exuberance over her accomplishments. Her smile was less forced and her tone less dry.

Less obvious, but probably more important, was the confidence she was gaining. Under Bellatrix's guidance her mastery over her powers was growing incredibly quickly. She felt powerful, felt strong. She was brilliant. Her powers really were beyond belief. But while each day her control over her magic grew, her control over herself lessoned.

I knew that her motivation to work as hard as she did was rooted in the fact that she really didn't want to hurt anyone. Her primary purpose was to gain control so nothing like the ball would ever happen again. It was so ironic.

She was totally convinced that anything Bella asked her to do would lead her in the right direction—the direction where she would finally be free of her own crippling fears and would gain a hold on her life. All credit for her growth went to Bella. I knew it was her own talents as a witch and determination to succeed that gave her such good results, but trying to tell Rebecca that was impossible. Her confidence in Bella was absolute and that spread to confidence in herself and blinded her to what was really happening.

It was terrible to witness. Worse, because I was contributing to it.

The Dark Lord was more than pleased with his new pet. The nightmare chamber was now molding to her every whim and she was getting better at creating things outside the room. She didn't need to pull her illusions out of a mind anymore, she could invent something form her own imagination. And with Bella's tutelage, we were learning just how dark her mind could be.

That was why I hesitated outside the door every time I had to bring her a meal. I was never sure what waited for me on the other side. Bella's 'lessons' ended on more and more frightening notes—not that Rebecca ever seemed to notice—her faith in her tutor was unwavering. It didn't matter how evil the things she created were, if Bella said it she did it.

I didn't think I really had much to fear from Rebecca personally. I was fairly certain that she would never actually hurt me. Every time I came to see her she greeted me with such a bright smile it felt like my worries about what she was turning into melted under it.

I thought that surely if she could look that happy she couldn't be too far gone. Someone as kind and good-natured as this girl wouldn't be totally swayed. No one could smile like _that_ and be a monster.

…Right?

With a sigh I pushed open the door and made my way through the threshold.

I had unconsciously closed my eyes so I wouldn't be immediately struck by whatever horrors lurked within, but the feel of a cool breeze brushing over my skin and playing with my hair surprised me into opening them. My gaze first landed on Rebecca. She was facing away from me, leaning back onto her hands with her legs crossed in front. Her long hair lifted idly in the breeze and she would toss her head when the tendrils tickled her neck. She was sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a small valley.

The sky was a bright, beautiful blue with large fluffy clouds drifting lazily overhead. Little flowers poked their heads out of the grass, sprinkling the hill with happy colored dots. I could hear a faint rumbling noise interrupting the tranquil scene, the source of which appeared to be metal boxes traveling across a ribbon of road on a distant hill. Muggle cars, I guessed.

A light smile formed over my face at the pleasant surprise. Instead of the evil darkness I had been expecting, Rebecca had created a peaceful little place. There was even a stream gurgling merrily down the hill. One could sit here all day, simply enjoying the scenery.

The breeze blew again and wind chimes gently tinkled nearby. I glanced to them and noticed several pinwheels sticking out of the ground. Actually, there were many of them scattered across the hillside, spinning in the light wind. It seemed like a strange thing to have, until my eyes focused on the grass. Or the areas that lacked grass.

Large rectangular blocks of stone were organized in neat rows across the ground. Each one had two dates and a name etched into their surface.

Headstones.

Unable to help myself, I let out an exclamation of alarm and stepped backwards. My foot landed on another headstone, right on top of the death date. I jumped and almost tripped over a slightly elevated stone. Now that I was looking for them, I could see the stones everywhere. Some of the flora I had mistaken for taller wildflowers were actually bouquets left by family members.

The noise I had made brought Rebecca's attention around and she blinked at me in confusion before smiling warmly.

"Hey." She said softly. Her eyes traveled to the position of my foot and crinkled in amusement. "Draco, don't step on the headstones. It's not appropriate."

Appropriate? _Appropriate?!_ Who was she to lecture me on what was appropriate?!

"What is this!?" I demanded, gesturing widely at the horrible scene.

Rebecca looked pensive for a moment and then a soft sigh escaped her lips. "It's a cemetery, Draco. Well, the illusion of one. The real one is back in California."

She said it so calmly! So nonchalant! She had created a bloody graveyard! What was wrong with this girl!? "Why? Why would you create this?"

Her smile had faded and she turned her attention forward again, gazing listlessly at the cars driving past. "Because. I wanted to understand."

"Understand what? Death?" I was still holding her lunch in my hand but I was not going to go to her. Not with all the dead people around me.

"No… not exactly." Her voice was airy and soft, but not quite a whisper. "Draco, why are people afraid of dying?"

I felt a chill run down my spine. "What?"

"Why are people…" She started to repeat the question and then paused. "I mean, it is human nature to do all in your power to survive. I get that. But death is a natural process. Everyone dies. It's inevitable. So why are people afraid of it?"

Still resolutely standing at a safe distance from the crazy girl and at close proximity to the door to sanity, I tried to think of why she would ask something like this. "People just are." I answered shortly. "Why are you doing this?"

Another sigh and she had turned her blue gaze back to me. I avoided looking her straight in the eye. "Because I don't fear death. At least, I don't think I do. I haven't ever really been tested. But personally I find the idea of prolonged pain much more frightening than death. Wouldn't that be worse?"

I didn't want to consider that. Not with all the bones around me. "Can you get rid of the graveyard? It's creeping me out."

She tilted her head and coyly smiled. "Why? There's nothing here."

"Nothing! There's dead bodies here! I'm not talking to you in a graveyard!"

She smirked. "Technically it is the illusion of dead bodies." I glared—not amused—and she rolled her eyes. "I like cemeteries. They're peaceful and pretty. Old ones are usually the best, but this is where my brother was buried so it's my favorite."

I froze and she nodded her head to the headstone on her left. I inched closer to get to an angle where I could see the writing but not be next to her. Sure enough, the printed name read, 'Our Beloved Son, Tanner Patrick Nils. 1995-2000.'

I knew she had a dead brother. It was in the file of personal information I'd studied before Rebecca had been ever set foot in England. But I hadn't really thought much of it since she hadn't mentioned it before. She'd been only eight when he had died, I didn't think the boy had had enough time to really make an impression on her.

"Who in their right mind has a favorite cemetery?" I asked derisively, not wanting to drift into awkward topics like dead siblings.

"I do." She responded shortly. "And anyone who does a lot of genealogy work does."

I snorted. "You're crazy. It's a big place of dead people. Most people avoid them for a reason."

"Most people do not understand them." She answered. She stretched out a hand and brushed it over the lettering of her brother's name. "Cemeteries are not scary places. They are resting places. Places of peace and perspective. The bodies buried here? They're just that, bodies. Empty shells. There's nothing more to them than there is to any doll. My brother's body is buried here, figuratively, but _he_ is far from here."

I just stared at her blankly.

That apparently frustrated her because she frowned and turned her entire body to look at me. "There's no one here, Draco. Its empty shells. No one picks up shells on the beach and cares that some poor oyster died to give them their pretty trinket. It's the same thing."

I looked out over the graves again and then gingerly stepped closer to her. I handed her the box that held her lunch and then settled down beside her. Sometimes I really just had no idea what went through her head. "It's not the same thing! Rebecca, why did you want to come here? This is a place of sadness and grief."

She shifted around so that she could set the lunch comfortably on her lap, but she did not open the box. "It's pretty. Cemeteries are well tended. When people come here they are quiet and considerate. I have…good memories here."

"Good memories?" I asked, feeling totally confused.

She nodded. "We come here every year. Victor and Adam and I used to race down this hill." A faint, nostalgic smile spread over her lips. "This stream goes to a fountain at the bottom, around that hedge over there. Sometimes there would be tadpoles in it. I always wanted to catch one but I never could. My parents…didn't want us to be afraid because our brother died. They wanted us to understand that he was dead, but not gone. We like to visit cemeteries all over the place. It's not a family vacation if we don't go searching through headstones for our ancestors."

It sounded like a funny way to bond to me. My parents would never have done something like that.

She was smiling contently though, probably still sifting through old memories of tramping through graveyards. I didn't like this conversation at all. It made me uncomfortable. It _should_ have made her uncomfortable too, but apparently not.

"So what's with the pinwheels?" I finally asked.

She shrugged and laughed. "I honestly have no idea. Some people like to put them by the graves of their children. They're always here when I come. Sometimes people put toys or little flags. We always just put some flowers."

"Oh." I suppose that made sense. Looking at the dates on the graves around us, all these people had died very young. This was probably the children's section. People would put children's objects by the graves.

We were quiet for a while. Rebecca looked utterly at peace here, while I still felt utterly unnerved. Logically I knew they were illusions. But despite her assurances, I couldn't see a dead body as anything other than a dead _person_. It was creepy to be hanging out with them.

"So…" I began, wanting to get to the bottom of her strangeness and get her to change the scene. "Why were you asking about death earlier?"

She glanced around, like she was checking for eavesdroppers. "I'm just confused by some things. I was kind of hoping you could explain them to me."

"Can I explain somewhere else?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine." The area around us rippled and we were suddenly sitting on a sandy shore, the ocean gently lapping up against the sand. The sun was dipping below the horizon, leaving us with a pretty scarlet sunset. "Better?"

I nodded. "So what am I explaining?"

"I…I think I'll get in trouble if I ask." She looked worried and glanced over her shoulder again. Just for a moment I wondered if she had found a break in the net the death eaters had been closing around her. If she had found a hole in their logic and I helped her see it then she might not turn into the Dark Lord's tool! But then that hope faded as I realized that it was actually my job to keep her under that net. I couldn't disobey the Dark Lord's direct instructions. He would know.

"I…I promise I won't tell anyone." I tried to assure her.

She stared at me for a moment, judging if I was lying or not.

"You won't get in trouble." I promised—hopefully sincerely. Voldemort loved her, she would be safe. I would be the one who got hurt. Somehow.

She still looked unsure, but she spoke bluntly and quickly. "Why does the Dark Lord fear death?" Her eyes darted around as if expecting something to jump out and accuse her of heresy.

Which, technically, wouldn't be out of line.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it—I had no idea how to answer that. It hadn't occurred to me that the Dark Lord could be afraid of anything. He was, after all, the Dark Lord.

"Um… could you clarify that a bit?" I asked. I only just kept myself from glancing around and searching for eavesdroppers, this topic was dangerous.

"Well… I would think that he'd be scared of what he might find on the other side, but I have a hard time believing that he actually believes in hell. I mean, he's done terrible things, right? But like, I don't think anyone would really do something bad if they really believed in a punishment. Crimes are usually done when people think they can get away with them. But then I can only think that he's scared of it being an end to his power. Or maybe it's just that it's something he can't conquer and he is afraid of power greater than him?"

She rambled on like that, throwing out possible reasons for why the Dark Lord could possibly fear death. She had obviously put a lot of thought into this and I wasn't sure how to respond. Somehow I needed to make sure that she never wavered from thinking that the Dark Lord was the greatest being to ever eist. But I didn't know how to do that.

"Well, why does it matter?" I finally asked lamely, hoping she'd just forget it.

"Because Bella doesn't fear _anything_! And that's because she believes in the Dark Lord so strongly, but I don't see why. If he is so afraid than why is he the greatest?"

A lot of thought indeed. "Rebecca… every great leader has his fears. That just…makes him greater, you know? He can stand despite those fears and conquer more." I almost winced as the words came out of my mouth. I sounded like some cheap inspirational speaker for the light. It sounded so stupid.

I held my breath and watched her expression carefully, trying to judge how that was received. Finally she gave a slow nod. "I guess…"

I had succeeded. I had defended my mission. I kept Rebecca in the dark. So why did I feel so guilty? I tried to change the subject to safer grounds.

"Enough about death and fear and depressing stuff. Eat your lunch."

She smiled in amusement and pulled a bowl of pasta out of the box. An ocean breeze swept her hair back and she ate slowly.

I looked out over the ocean and watched the reflection of the red sun floating in the water. Guilt ate at me. Each wave roaring towards me yelled about how terrible I was. The gentle sigh as the water kissed the beach and retreated mocked my cowardice. I could do something. I could interfere with the process. It wouldn't be hard. A few words here and there would plant just enough doubt.

But just like the last time I had been given a mission, I could not stop. A man, arguably the greatest man England had ever known, had been killed because I had the courage of a mouse. I had wanted to prove how strong I was, how brave I could be. But all I'd done was seal the fate of a good man. In the end, I hadn't even been strong enough to finish the deed.

Dumbledore died because of me. And so would many others. I was too scared to stand up and put an end to the madness.

_Coward…_ the waves whispered.

I couldn't disagree. Rebecca smiled at me and I pulled my lips into a mirror of the expression.

_Coward…_

_

* * *

_

Bellatrix

* * *

She was having trouble focusing. This was typical after meeting with Draco, but normally her mind caught up quickly with what I was asking her to do. This session she seemed to be extra distracted.

"Rebecca, stop for a moment."

A brief look of panic crossed her face. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked worriedly. Assuming the answer would be yes she immediately broke into an apology, "I'm sorry. I am trying, really."

Oh, she was so eager to please.

"No, no. Here, come sit with me for a moment." Even as I spoke she created chairs behind me. Green plush seats with ornately carved armrests materialized from nothing. I settled myself gracefully into the closest one. It felt completely solid and supremely comfortable.

Her abilities were as amazing as her obedience. The seeds of devotion had long been planted in her heart, she just needed a direction to grow them in.

She quickly moved to sit in the remaining chair. That in itself was a sign of how much progress she had made with her magic. Initially she could not touch anything she made. She was too aware of its unreal nature for it to be solid. Anyone else would have been able to sit in that chair, but Rebecca had not believed enough for it to work for her.

But as her confidence in her powers grew, so did her belief in her creations. The chair she made was real to her and so it became more than just an illusion.

The Dark Lord had been so very wise to bring her here.

I had to continue her improvement, but I needed to make sure everything inside her mind was on track. "You seem distracted. Is there something bothering you? Is your healing draught not working?"

She had been taking a potion developed by our top potions masters to ease her stomach pains. She took one with every breakfast to ensure her capabilities for our lessons. Too many of the beginning ones had ended with my poor child choking on her own blood. Her health had improved immensely in the past few weeks, but one couldn't be too careful. If they were failing now, I would have to meet with the potion master and show him what failure meant.

But Rebecca shook her head. "No, the potion works fine. Thank you for those, by the way. I feel better than I have in months."

I might see the potions master anyway. Just to be certain he understood how important this girl was. "Is there something else bothering you, then?"

She looked at the ground thoughtfully. "I was just…thinking about… Draco."

Draco? Of course. I had wondered if something like that would happen. If my nephew weren't such a failure I might think it would be an excellent match. Though, he reportedly had some talent. He did fix that cabinet after all. Maybe she could bring him up to a proper standard.

It was tiresome to ask, but part of my duties included the darling's emotional wellbeing. "Is there…something going on between you two?"

Rebecca jerked from her contemplative posture with a start and turned quizzical eyes on me. "What? Oh! No. No, no. That isn't what I meant. Actually, I guess it isn't just Draco. He's just the most recent person."

She trailed off and returned her gaze to the floor. She always inclined her head downward and to the left when she was thinking, as if there were some answer in the floor that if she just looked hard enough she could find.

Of course, she was not particularly forthcoming when in this mood. She had to be guided into answering, but that allowed for guidance of her thought process, which she desperately needed. The poor thing was a lost soul. Lost and afraid and in need of the solace the Dark Lord could give her. I would show her the way.

Gently, my fingers lifted her chin and turned her back to me. "What is it, Rebecca? You know you can trust me."

A happy smile graced her face, gratitude shining in her eyes. She did trust me. She trusted me without question, without reservations. So faithful. Such a good girl.

"I don't even know why it bothers me anymore. I just… He's afraid of me. Most people are. Or they're mad that I can see all their secrets and they can't see mine."

Of course they feared her powers. They should fear them. It was the ultimate form of legilimency and she barely had to try to attain it.

"People are weak. They fear what they do not understand. Rebecca, you need to remember that. They become angry to prove that you are below them."

She nodded in agreement but I could tell those words had little effect on her. She was trying too hard to be considerate of feelings. The only feelings she needed to consider were her own and the Dark Lord's.

"Rebecca, you must listen to me. You have given those lesser creatures power over you. You have let them gain a hold of you and they have made you fear them. You do not need to hide anymore. You do not need to bend to their rules. Now is your chance to show them that you are not a force to be trifled with."

"But it really isn't their fault. I—"

"You? You, Rebecca, have been wronged. Do not buy into their fear. Those _people_ are hardly worthy of standing in your presence, let alone occupying your thoughts like this. You are chosen of the Dark Lord, you are a holy vessel of his will."

She still hesitated, obviously conflicted. This wouldn't do. It was time to try an exercise the Dark Lord had taught me personally in the early days when I had been weak and foolish and had trouble delivering the killing blow my master required of me.

"Try and remember. Remember every time someone spurned you for something you could not control. Each time some ingrate stared at you with hate-filled eyes. Every time you were yelled at, every person who hurt you, frightened you. Remember them. Stop giving them excuses. They deserve none. When the basic facts stand they hurt you for no reason. It is time to show them who you are."

And the girl obeyed, as I knew she would. She had previously clasped her hands together at her knees and now they came apart, the muscles twitching and growing agitated. The corners of her mouth twitched as she fought with herself. Her sense of right and wrong had been solidified by a corrupt society, solidified in a terribly self-destructive way. The poor dear would have spent her life in a troubled state of wrongness, always thinking herself inadequate, always keeping herself on the fringe. But deep underneath the statutes of society she knew I spoke the truth. She could not deny it even if she had wanted to.

She hardly noticed when the nightmare chamber began to pick up her memories. Voices echoed around the room. Screams and shouts, hating defensive tones. Indistinct figures of people drifted in and out of focus around her. Their images were faded and blurred together, but their eyes stood out starkly. Every pair was filled with fearful hatred. Each was riveted on Rebecca, boring painful holes in her psyche.

They spun around the chairs we sat in, calling and jeering. Rebecca shook her head quickly in a vain attempt to cast away the memories. I could not tell the exact moments she was recalling, but I could see the potent effect they had on her.

"Stop justifying their treatment. Prove that you aren't what they say. Prove you're better than they are. I know you are. _Show_ _them_!"

She listened. My words were near gospel. She was growing angry.

I could feel the waves of frustration sliding off her body as the cage she had normally kept her more negative emotions trapped in began to bend. It was a fight, years of conditioning herself to believe that those feelings were wrong—that she was weak and sinful for having them, that they were made for people stronger than her—had created a force of habit that did not want to be broken. But she _wanted_ to believe in me more than she wanted to believe in those teachings.

And that was enough.

"Take all that pain, everything you've bottled up, make something of it. Create them." I instructed, anticipation increasing my heartrate.

It was working. The soft grey-blue of her iris was hardening into a crystallized fury as pain solidified into pure, righteous anger.

The room reacted to her changing mood. I could feel the earth shaking beneath me, rocking back and forth in a passion-induced quake. The anger was taking hold of Rebecca and she was blossoming under it. The world around us rippled with suppressed energy. The quaking grew in intensity, jerking the floor back and forth until the ground began to split.

The hurt and pain she had suffered through as well as the shame and fear imposed on her being were burdens she would bear no longer. She rose from her chair, eyes blazing. This time, the world at large would feel her pain.

Clouds of ash exploded form the widening chasms, rising above our chairs and spreading in thick mushroomed swirls. It was chaos. It was destruction. It was _ecstasy_. And it could only get better.

I laughed in triumph as another cloud of smoke exploded behind her. Such imagination. Such skill. Such _beauty_.

"Bring out your fears, make them submit! Show them who has the power!"

A shrieking, snarling rumble rose from the fountains of ash. Spidery, claws hands stretched out of the chasms, crawling over the broken edges. Black, leathery beasts rising from the abyss. Every fear, every pain, every awful memory Rebecca held was being personified into a writhing, surging mass of claws and limbs. They were demons from the darkest nightmare. They gathered at our feet and bowed, ready to serve their mistress.

They were masses of pointed spines, twisted bones, and blazing red eyes. Wave after wave of the beasts rose from the pits, coming to stand in a trembling horde.

Their exact forms were unimportant. Rebecca did not see the world distinctly for her inner demons to take a distinct shape. Instead, bowing at our feet were shadows. Shadows with reaching, raking fingers.

The ground trembled and the broken pieces slammed back together. Rebecca was standing, gazing over her army with a twisted satisfaction.

She turned her head to look for me, fiery blue eyes seeking my approval. I gave it with exultant joy. She was almost ready.

The nightmare queen had been born.

* * *

Draco

* * *

I thought I had a plan. I thought maybe I could get her to focus on the good parts of her life under the guise of learning more about her past. That's what I would do. I would walk in there and get her talking about nice people. About puppies and butterflies and everything that fell under the category of 'sickeningly cute.'

It would work. I knew it would. It was all I had.

I didn't wait for the house elf to come get me. It was time for dinner and I was going to go into that chamber like a man.

I twisted the doorknob and thrust the wooden barrier out of my way, striding into that warzone with the confidence befitting my class.

I caught a glance of Rebecca's furious eyes before they were on me.

Wailing, gnashing beasts attacking my flesh and ripping me apart.

Blood splattered across spiny black monsters, staining their leathery skin and matching their death-filled eyes.

Rebecca's shriek was drowned out by my own as I dropped to the ground. Blood and shadows enveloped my vision and I was gone.

* * *

There we go. I'm not entirely happy about Bella's POV but it is an unfortunate product of my busy schedule and I actually found myself rather uncomfortable with it. It will get better. If anyone has suggestions I would be most grateful.

Leah, I'm sorry I've hurt your opinion of Harry. xD He really isn't a bad guy, Nikki just tends to put people in a bad light and not let them out. I'm glad you like it anyway.

I hope the lines make it easier to find the switches in POV.


	11. Chapter 11: Fear's Pathways

I said I was going to post a short chapter before and I had it written timely, but then it was so short I decided it wasn't worth it. If I was going to post it was going to be big.

So here is chapter eleven. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 11: Fear's Pathways

* * *

Narcissa

* * *

Events were going exactly as planned. Better than planned. The girl was progressing in her learning at an incredible pace. She was eager and determined to master anything thrown at her. Perfectly willing to do anything asked of her. The perfect student, the perfect weapon for the Dark Lord. His excitement in Rebecca Nils was strangely obvious. Bella too showed an unorthodox amount of outward joy.

My sister had spoken excitedly of the girl's accomplishment as she sat in the parlor with my me and my husband before leaving for another lesson. Her zealous tone carried all the love she had for the Dark Lord and, by extension, for Miss Nils. Though, I had to wonder if her exuberance in the young girl wasn't totally derived from the Dark Lord. She was almost too enthusiastic about her current task for that to be all.

I didn't think she was even consciously aware of the way her face glowed as she spoke. She hadn't been quite so happy for over twenty years. I would never share my suspicions with my sister, but I couldn't help but think this had something to do with her inability to have children.

Andromeda had her mutant child and I had my Draco, but Bella had only the Dark Lord. Inwardly I had always conjectured that one of her initial reasons for throwing herself so obsessively into the Dark Lord's movement stemmed from her husband's displeasure at her shortcomings. She had filled the void where a baby should have been with Voldemort. What she lacked in fertility, she made up for in magic and ruthlessness.

The Dark Lord, unlike Rodolphus, did not care that she was barren. He accepted her only on the condition that she use her wand for him and his cause. Bella was all too happy to comply.

But this usually led to jealousy on her part for anything that dragged the Dark Lord's attention from her. Based on past experience, his pleasure in Miss Nils' powers should have incited an envious rage within my sister, not this triumphant joy.

I could only think that some sort of maternal instinct, made more potent by Voldemort's approval, was guiding her actions.

If only such a thing had happened with a less dangerous girl, in a less dangerous time. If Bella had only had a child twenty years ago, would she have become the hardened monster she was now? If she had found someone to love as I loved my son, might she never have become this? Might I still have my beloved sister?

I could only guess.

I wanted to share my musings with my husband, but I wasn't sure he would listen. Once upon a time he would have found the topic interesting, if only because I did, but now he had little energy to spare for something unimportant and simply lacked the will to muster up anything extra.

So I left him to his business and continued to ponder silently. I was pretending to read a book of old poems but I hadn't turned the page in half an hour. I set it aside and reached instead for the cup of tea I had set on the side table next to the settee I was currently lounging on.

A charm had kept it warm while I left it unattended and I held the china in my hands for a moment before taking a sip. The heat felt good in my hands, comforting even.

That is, until the house elf popped into the parlor with the bang of apparation and the scalding liquid sloshed out of the cup and down my dress. I hissed in pain and shot a murderous glare at my asinine servant.

"What is it?" I demanded, patting my dress in a vain attempt to reduce the damage to the fabric.

Lucius looked up from his reading, concern flashing briefly in his eyes. But he soon settled back down and returned to his deadened state.

A wave of sadness spread through me as I glanced at the zombie. I had once had a vibrant, powerful, self-assured man supporting me. Losing him felt like losing half of my soul. I floundered with despair for a moment, thinking of how my life was being wrenched from me, piece by piece. But I hid my pain behind a mask of disgust and directed my ire at the source of my ruined dress instead of the actual issues.

The elf was shaking so badly I wondered if he was going to go into a seizure. I inhaled deeply in preparation for a lengthy and heated berating, but then I recognized which elf it was.

I had given this particular creature the assignment to alert me if anything happened to Draco. He was my personal spy of sorts, watching over my son and Miss Nils.

Burned skin and dress utterly forgotten, I sprang from my seat and grabbed the elf by the sheet he covered himself with and brought him directly to my eye level.

"_What happened?_" I hissed, giving the creature a jerk to emphasize my impatience.

"Narcissa!" Lucius called in shock from behind me.

I ignored him like he ignored everything else. "Tell me, you useless little cretin! What happened?" The elf stammered apologies and I shook him again. "Just tell me!"

"Black monsters attacked Master Draco, Mistress. He was greatly injured. Mistress Bellatrix has someone looking at him but there was much blood and you asked that I come to you immediately if—"

I did not give him a chance to finish speaking. I dropped the thing and dashed from the room. I heard my husband call from behind me but I paid him no heed.

I ran for the Nightmare Chamber, pushing aside anyone who happened to be in my way. There was a meeting tonight and many dark robed acolytes were milling about. Imbeciles, all of them. Thinking they were so powerful, right on the edge of victory. I hated them. Hated them all.

But my urgency was more important than my dislike of the death eaters invading my home. I found the medical team gathered outside the chamber. Two wizards knelt around my son. He was unconscious, but I could see his chest moving. He was alive. I sighed in relief and slowed my panicked pace to a more dignified and authoritative stride.

One wizard was wrapping bandages around his arms while another wizard applied some sort of ointment to his skin.

"What happened?!" I demanded when I reached them.

"An accident, Mrs. Malfoy." The wizard spreading the ointment told me without looking up.

_Accident_? I sincerely doubted that. The dubious claim became even less believable as I got a look at the slashes all over my son's body. Spells kept him from bleeding out, but the wide jagged lines of red crisscrossing all over his skin were clearly visible. He looked like something had chewed him up and spat him out.

Hot rage bubbled in my chest. _She _had hurt my son.

"What happened?" I repeated icily.

"He stepped inside the chamber mid-session and the... He was attacked by... Some sort of monster." The bandager spoke in a shaky voice.

Monster indeed.

The one with the ointment assure me that he would recover. The wounds were mostly superficial. Now that they had stopped the bleeding he should be fine.

"Where is she?" I growled. Now that I knew Draco was safe I would find that blonde girl and show her just what it meant to hurt my son.

"Where is who, Mrs. Malfoy?" The medic-wizard asked calmly. I bristled at his tone. So simple and unconcerned, as if he didn't care who he was talking to or that he was operating on my child.

"The girl who did this!" I shrieked at him.

The bandager finished with my boy's arms and, hands shaking, tied a knot in the fabric. "Please, ma'am. They're still here." He whispered in a frightened voice.

I stared at him incredulously and he nodded to the walls. My eyes flicked around and at first I saw nothing but the stones that made up this particular hallway. But as I looked harder they began to surface. Bubbling up from the shadows, eyes and heads rose from the darkness to sneer at me. The more I looked, the more of them grew out of the walls until a veritable army of creatures lurked in every shadow.

Rebecca Nils' army. The Dark Lord's army. They had done it.

And my son had fallen in their path.

I knelt down next to the medic-wizard and brushed aside some of Draco's hair from his forehead. It was sticky with sweat and blood and it crackled under my fingers. I tried to ignore the presence of the shadow monsters around me as I stroked his face. His slow breaths moved over my fingertips and I half-wished he could remain asleep forever. That way he would no longer be a part of this horror.

The wizards around me pulled out their wands to levitate him away.

"We'll take him to his room, Mrs. Malfoy. You needn't worry about him." I almost laughed. How could anyone say that?

I watched them carry away my son. I remained where I was even as the house elves came to clean away the bloody marks on the ground—all the while shadows looked on.

They wiped away the traces of that girl's brutality, away the signs of my son. Soon we would all be gone, just like that.

I barely heard the footsteps that came from behind me. The cold hand that touched my arm to draw me away felt like a ghost, far away and formless.

"Narcissa. You shouldn't be down here. It's cold and you aren't healthy…"

"Don't pretend like it matters, Lucius." I spat out, anger standing as the only concrete thing in my life.

"Cissy, be reasonable." He pleaded.

I spun around and jerked away from him. "No! Lucius, no!" My eyes narrowed at his thin figure. "There is no more 'being reasonable'! Our son almost died! Do you see that blood? That is your son's blood! Your blood!"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, but did not respond.

I continued my rant in lieu of his silence. "Do you see them? Do you see the monsters she created? The creatures you have let into our house? Don't you even care anymore!? We're dying, Lucius! One by one we will be eliminated! Is that what you want? Is that what you planned for the great house of Malfoy? To become this? This sham of honor? What honor is there when your only child is _dying_?"

"Stop!" He yelled, roughly grabbing my shoulders. "Stop right there, Narcissa! I have done everything I could for us! Everything I could to keep us alive!"

His eyes were wild and his grip too tight, but I was too hurt already to care.

"Everything!? Really, Lucius? Well, good job. You have landed our home in the hands of a maniac and now we're all dying! Draco is unconscious and they've already dug my grave! Thank you, Lucius, for doing _everything_!"

"You and Draco are not dying. The Dark Lord promised—"

I scoffed. "You think the Dark Lord cares about something as stupid as a _promise_ Lucius? You think he will actually _protect _us when the time comes? Lucius, he doesn't care about us! We're pawns, useless expendable pawns!"

"We've survived this long, Narcissa. I've kept us alive—"

"For what? So we can cater to our replacements? So we can walk around like wraiths in our own home? My son is dying, Lucius! We're running out of things to be alive _for!"_

"Don't say that!" He yelled, giving me a desperate shake. "Cissy, you are not dying! Do you hear me? Draco is not dying! I've made sure of it!"

I shoved his hands off my shoulders and moved away. "Forgive me if I don't believe you anymore." I spoke in a low tone. My arm swept out to point at the creatures watching our spat. "Wake up, Lucius. You're useless and you've failed us! We're failing. We've failed."

Lucius opened his mouth to respond, but a door creaking open behind us prevented him from speaking.

Bellatrix stepped out of the Nightmare chamber, Rebecca Nils following closely behind.

The house elves scampered out of sight, but the monsters in the hall all turned to the blonde teenager as she passed, each one bowing a monstrous head in reverence for her. Once creature sat on her shoulder, gripping her shirt with spiny claws. A long tail wrapped around her back and twisted up over her other shoulder.

Her eyes seemed oddly dim. The creature nuzzled against her neck like some abominable pet and she absently scratched behind one ragged ear.

Bella spotted the two of us first and a broad, genuine smile spread over her face. She almost skipped over to me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and _hugged_ me. Shock overpowered my anger and I was at a loss on how to respond.

"This is a glorious day, Cissy." She whispered in my ear, excitement lacing every word. "I know you fear for your son, but that isn't necessary. He will be fine." She held me at arm's length. "Rejoice now, dear sister. The happy day at last has come."

She was so…joyous. The light in her eyes was so reminiscent of our younger days, when the three of us lived as sisters, happy and care-free. I couldn't bring myself to disagree with her, no matter how much I _knew_ she was wrong. There was no point.

What sick god was playing with me? My sister finally comes back to me, finally regains that spirit she had when we were growing up, and it is at the expense of everything else I love. What terrible, terrible irony has filled the joke of my existence?

Bella let me go and returned to her student's side to guide her away.

Her head turned to Lucius. "I will see you in the master's chambers in half an hour, brother. We have great news to share." He nodded. She flash that smile at us and led the monster away.

The creatures followed them, many sliding over my skin. I shivered as they passed and then turned to my husband.

I wanted to scream at him again but I found I had nothing I could say. I felt defeated and raw, like there was nothing left in me. I wanted to say something biting and vindictive, something to communicate just how hopeless and destroyed I felt, but there were no words.

Lucius and I simply looked at each other, each waiting for the other to do something.

When tears began their shameful trek down my cheeks I bowed my head and left him.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy

* * *

The army was ready. That was the new of tonight's meeting. Originally it had been a routine check-up, a meeting where each sector leader gave a report of their progress. But my dear sister-in-law had an important announcement and it took precedence over the regular agenda.

Rebecca Nils had succeeded in creating a destructive force of infinite proportions. It entered as she spoke, sliding out of shadows, rising forth from pools of darkness to hover menacingly over every death eater.

Untold numbers came from everywhere and nowhere. The smallest bit of shadow could hide thousands of these creatures and they were all poised to attack.

It took all of my control to keep from reacting. Most especially as Voldemort began his sermon on our purpose and goals. It could have been from an awakened preacher, the passion and power in his voice was so strong. But the implications in the speech were hard to forget.

"All this from one girl. One teenage girl. How easily she has done so much for us."

We were not as useful. We had failed to bring forth the power he really needed.

"They've already proven their destructive capabilities.'

I could hear my wife's words in my head. _That is your son, Lucius. _She and the Dark Lord kept a running commentary in my mind as I sat in my study.

The Dark Lord spoke of us as his 'trusted few' but all I could think of was Narcissa's more accurate word: _Pawns_. No one was among that few.

_He doesn't care about us! _

Soon he would grow tired of giving us pointless jobs to fulfill. How many people would he really need under him when his regime fully took over?

"Be ready, my servants. The end is near."

The end for whom? When the ranks were cut down, who would be lost? The Malfoys had failed him before.

I swirled the dark liquid in my glass. It was a tart, bitter wine. It had been a bad year, but all the good bottles had been given to the Dark Lord. Like everything else.

I had given everything to him in an attempt to appease his appetite, to protect my family. Absolutely everything. And now he would take my son to show his power. Draco was an easy sacrifice for the good of the mission. If he died by Rebecca's hand, who could argue with her power? And the less one could argue, the stronger she was.

I sighed and set the wine glass on my desk. I couldn't drink any more of it. It wasn't like it actually helped anyway. The bitter taste felt like justice on my tongue, but it was as fleeting as any other attempt at comfort I made.

I rose from the chair and left the study to enter my bedchambers.

I found my wife asleep on the settee in the antechamber. Despite her screams down below, she still tried to wait up for my return, like always.

_You're useless._

Her hair, now far more white than blonde, was hanging limply about her shoulders and over her face. A book sat open on her lap. I noticed idly that it was the same book of poetry she had been trying to get through for the past month. I doubted she had even gone beyond the first page.

She tired easily now. The curse mark across her back sapped at her energy. Her breathing was heavy—a sharp, labored inhale followed by a stuttering, painful exhale. The Dark Lord had punished her for speaking out against his treatment of our family several months before.

It was a debilitating curse, draining from her very life force and sucking it away. The energy was feeding into some sort of container, but I was not told what or where it was. Likely it was on the Dark Lord's person, but I could hardly ask him.

Gently, I slid my hands underneath my wife and lifted her off the cushions.

I had always been able to carry her. Narcissa had had weight problems ever since she was a little girl. An early birth and then bouts with eating disorders during school had left her thin to begin with, though she usually covered it well. The curse dragged down her already sickly figure into what felt like nothing in my arms.

Her vibrant, unconquerable personality had always carried her through before, but while asleep all I could see was pain.

The image of the tears running down her face flashed in my mind as I carefully eased her onto out bed. She was still wearing her day dress so I loosened the strings running up the back so she might breathe easier. A small curling tendril of the black curse poked into my vision. The entire thing stretched all the way down her back and around her sides. Three large, runic circles surrounded one knife-cut brand. It was an old practice—the draining curse—but it was effective.

I covered her shoulder with an old quilt and smoothed down her hair, attempting to make her as comfortable as possible.

I loved my wife. I always had. It had been a long, hard-fought victory with my parents to allow me to marry her. Her older sister was considered a better match with her healthier constitution. Everyone had been aware of Cissy's dietary troubles even if most did not speak of it. It was a dirty topic and not for polite conversation.

But it certainly came up with my parents. Her fertility was in question and if she could not have children, how could the Malfoy name go on? Bellatrix was barren, why not her? Andromeda had seemed to have escaped that fate (though her associations with that mudblood had made her a little less stunning in my parents' eyes). Narcissa's menstrual cycles had been unstable at best. At her worst health she didn't have them at all.

I hadn't cared. She was beautiful and she had stood against her difficulties by sheer force of will and unconquerable personality I had not been able to resist. She would be a perfect Malfoy and any children by her would uphold a mighty heritage.

But more than all that, she had a deep and secret care for those around her. My Cissy _loved_. She hid her capacity for such, but that did not diminish its strength. I had known about and wanted that love for my own. Cissy had not stopped eating because of fears for her looks. Her anorexia had stemmed from the loss of Andromeda. Her sister had stolen a piece of Narcissa she probably did know she had owned. To be honest, dear Dromeda still owned that sliver of my wife's heart.

And Narcissa had been able to get pregnant, several times in fact. Two miscarriages had preceded Draco, but that only made him that much more miraculous. Underneath all the stress and pain, a beautiful baby boy had come to our lives. The pregnancy and labor had nearly killed my wife, but she had always said it was worth it.

I had cared for our boy in the first few weeks. Cissy had gone into intensive care while I fed Draco formulated milk in a rocking chair by her bed. I had kept him alive for that first month of his life, but Narcissa had stepped out of line for him in the end, had put her head on the chopping block _again_ for her son.

And now she was dying. There was no way I could continue to deny it. My beloved would leave me soon. And if the Dark Lord had his way, so would my son.

My son.

His life was all that really mattered. All Narcissa wanted, had ever wanted, was for her baby to live. I could give her that.

I would forfeit my life in the process, but that meant nothing. It had been proven time and again that I was nothing now. My parents had always taught me that prolonging the Malfoys was top priority. That name meant nothing now, but my _son_ meant everything.

Draco would live.

If I could only do that much then my life would not have been wasted.

"Draco will live." I whispered the promise to my sleeping wife, before kissing her cheek and turning away.

I left our room and made my way to Draco's chambers where he would be sleeping. I had to get him out tonight or there would never be another chance.

There were shadow creatures all over the manor, watching me as I traveled to my son's room. I entered the antechamber and peered around at them.

They were hideous creatures, blacker than the night and far deadlier. But my life was over already and I had nothing to fear from them. In fact, in reality, they did not exist. They were figments of Rebecca's imagination, given substance and power by my belief.

But they had no power over me tonight. The living could not fight the dead.

The glowing red eyes blinked out as the monsters faded back into the shadows.

I continued on my way, entering Draco's bed chambers. I found him asleep in his bed, heavily bandaged and unconscious. He was probably full of spells and potions to keep him asleep but leaving him that way would be too much trouble. I needed him to be able to run on his own.

I covered his mouth with my left hand and flicked my wand with the other, silently countering whatever spells kept him asleep.

His eyes flickered open blurrily, obviously confused about what was happening. But he soon lost all traces of sleep and began to struggle against my restraint. It was dark but I could see the wild and frightened expression on his face. I held tight against his mouth, muffling the panicked shout and holding him down on the bed.

"Draco!" I hissed sharply. "Draco, stop."

It took him a moment to register my voice but he eventually stopped fighting me. I released him and stepped away from the bed.

"Father, what—"

"Put this on." I tossed him a cloak he had hanging from his wardrobe and began searching for some shoes he could put on. The healers had removed his shirt and I didn't have time to search for one that was soft enough to go over his injuries yet still suitable for escaping. I doubted he had any. We had always prided ourselves on providing our son with the most expensive and most fashionable clothing, none of which would be of any help in the current situation. What good were fancy silks and Italian shoes when they could cost my son his life?

"Father, what are you doing?" Draco asked. He hadn't moved from the bed. "What happened to Rebecca?"

I ignored him and grabbed hold of a pair of riding boots. They were meant for sitting in stirrups of rare magical horses, not running but they would have to do.

"Put these on. Hurry." I commanded, striding over to his bed and jerking his blankets off of him. He still had pants on—though they were thin and meant for sleeping in. The monsters had apparently centered their attack on his upper body. That at least was a small blessing.

He moved off the bed in an agonizingly slow motion. He was obviously in a lot of pain but he made no sound of it. He probably felt the need to hide it from me. I felt ashamed at that thought.

I grabbed the cloak and clasped it around his neck. I then helped him into the boots and pointed my wand at his head. A simple spell altered the distinctive coloration of his hair, which I covered again with the cloak's hood.

"Father, why—"

"Keep quiet, Draco. I'm doing something I should have done months ago. Grab your wand and follow me."

He obeyed, probably out of fear. I wished I could somehow communicate my love for him now, somehow explain that he was everything I had hoped he could be and I had always been proud of him. But I did not know how. All I could do was lead him through the hallways and out of the manor, to the stables where I had taught him to ride a pony when he was just a small boy.

I had never had much interest in horses but my wife did and so I had provided what I could for her. Draco had found the same love of the equine animals as she did and I had invested even more into the sport. These stables were a masterpiece only money could buy. But I had had them built in the place of an old building my ancestors had used as a storage unit—and an emergency escape.

Three tunnels led out from underneath these stables, each leading to a separate location. My ancestors had hoped that in this way the Malfoys could split up and increase the chance of them surviving.

I brought Draco into the tack room and removed one of the professionally made saddles from its hook. I then tapped an intricate pattern on the empty space and whispered the password. A wide hole opened in the wall and I motioned for Draco to go through.

"Where are we going?" He asked, hesitating. He had winced with every step he took and was breathing heavily now but the boy had endured silently all through the trek. I couldn't let him rest, not with time so valuable, but this would probably be the last time I would see my son.

"_We _aren't going anywhere." I told him. "_You_ are leaving. This tunnel will take you to a fork where you can choose one of three escape routes. Any of them will take you far enough away to give you a good chance of staying safe."

"But, Father—"

I stopped him with a hand. "No, Draco. You have to go. You have to survive. This is your only chance."

He still didn't move. "I don't want to leave you and mother."

I wanted to hug him, hold him. Anything just to show him how much I cared, how much I appreciated his concern, but I couldn't. I had to get him to leave.

Instead of love, I showed him anger. I roughly grabbed his cloak and threw him into the secret passage. He jumped to his feet, but I had closed the wall before he could return.

I replaced the saddle and turned away from the place I had left my son. "Please, let him live." I whispered to whatever was listening.

I gave myself one moment to grieve, one moment to wish I was leaving with my only child.

But only one moment. It was all I had to spare. I still had one more mission to complete.

I left the stables.

* * *

Rebecca Nils

* * *

I hadn't known who was entering the room. I thought he was part of the exercise. Like, anther phantom fear I was supposed to defeat.

I hadn't even ordered the attack, I had just wanted to overcome it all and it had just…happened.

I called them off immediately. Right as I realized it was Draco and not some dream of mine, but it had been too late. He was writhing on the ground, bleeding everywhere. I ran to him, yelling his name and desperately trying to think of a way to help him. I had screwed up. All I'd done was hurt someone.

Bella came next to me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me from the blood.

"Draco!" I shouted as I tried to pull away.

"Rebec—" He was coughing up blood, but his eyes were open and looking straight at me. I looked right back at him, afraid to see the accusations I knew had to be lurking behind his pupils.

He was angry... but not at me.

I stopped fighting Bella's hold, shock replacing my panic. He didn't think it was my fault. Instead, from what I could gather, he seemed to pity me. He felt _sorrow_.

One fragmented thought transferred from his mind to mine before Bella's wand closed Draco's eyes from me.

_This is the beginning_.

Beginning of what? What had I just done? What was happening to me?

I felt dazed. I barely noticed as Bella called for a medical team. Two wizards entered the room and did a quick examination of Draco. One of them announced that his vitals appeared to be fine and that the blood loss appeared to be superficial. Draco would recover fine, but they needed to stop the bleeding and get him away from the room. I didn't need to look at them to know of the fear they held for me and the creatures milling about around me. I knew Draco did not really need to be moved to be treated; they just wanted to leave the room.

Bella waited until the door had shut behind them to talk to me. I turned my head to look at her, hoping to find some sort of certainty in her sure eyes. It was still there. She still believed in me, still held firm to that rock that was her belief.

"What—" I started to ask a question but she placed a finger over my lips to silence me.

"Do not think any less of yourself for what has happened. A simple mistake of idiocy has occurred by no fault of yours. Do you understand?" She spoke clearly and directly, addressing my concerns with a strict finality that halted my wavering.

I nodded.

A smile spread over her face and she leaned down to kiss my forehead. It was an oddly familiar gesture, one any member of my family might have done. I felt comforted by it.

Bella slipped her arms around me and pulled me close, whispering words of encouragement in my ear. I buried my face in her shoulder and let her push my fears away.

I wasn't aware of time passing as we stood like that, but eventually she let me go.

"Rebecca, I want you to remember how important you are. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. Anyone who tries to pull you down is inferior and wants you to think the same. You are a powerful and amazing witch and no one can take that away from you. Just look around." She swept an arm out at the army of shadows all looking up at me.

I looked around the room. Every single one of them had been created to do my will. I had minions. Dark, evil little minions. I couldn't count how many of them there actually were, but I could tell that each wanted to do whatever I wished; each wanted me to be happy.

One stepped out of the masses and bowed before my feet. It was the only one that had an absolute shape. It had an imp-ish body, tiny and gangly, with spiny elbows and spikes down his back. A long tail stretched out behind it, flicking around in the air. Big, floppy ears stuck out of a slightly canine face. One ear was ripped in an oddly endearing way.

This was the representative leader of my legion, the icon I would think of when I considered the things I had created. I glanced over at Bella who nodded encouragingly and then knelt down to look him directly in the eye.

"Demichael." It hissed in a gravelly voice, naming itself. I nodded. It had no real gender, but the name seemed masculine to me. I decided to think of the little creature as a boy.

I reached out a hand and the creature scampered up to curl around my neck. I was reminded of a pirate's parrot and smiled. "Demichael." I repeated. He nuzzled up against my cheek. The skin was coarse, but not uncomfortable leather.

This thing wasn't a monster. In fact, it was kind of cute. I had turned the embodiment of my fears into a manageable pet. It had been a mistake that Draco had been hurt, like Bella said. I would be more careful with how I used this new extension of my powers to make sure no one was hurt. Bella was right.

I stood up and she motioned for me to follow her.

We walked out of the chamber to find Draco's parents. My confidence of a minute ago melted. They would hate me. There was no way they could _not_ hate me.

Bella, however, strode right up to her younger sister and hugged her. I averted my eyes, partially to give the sisters a moment together, partially to avoid looking directly into either of the Malfoys' eyes.

I waited until my teacher collected me again and continued walking. I still refused to look at the parents as we walked past them.

Bella brought me back to my room. She stayed with me for a while, stroking my hair and gently reminding me that I was not at fault for the accident. Draco would be fine.

There was a meeting with the death eaters so she could not stay long. I didn't want her to go. I was afraid that if she left me, her confidence wouldn't stay with me and I might have some sort of relapse. Most of all I simply didn't want to be alone.

She promised to return as quickly as she could and then reminded me that I had an endless supply of companions readily available. My chief shadow creature hopped into my lap at that point and curled up like some sort of reptilian demon-cat. Despite myself I smiled. Bella kissed the top of my head and left the room.

I thought I should find Demichael disturbing, or at the very least it should make me nervous. But he was an extension of me and I felt like he was simply an old, volatile friend. He was built of anger and fear, smashed into a little physical body. Naturally he was inclined to attack, but his existence was built around my need for control. If I didn't want someone attacked he would not, or rather, could not do so.

He was like the perfect servant. And I had created him.

That fascinated me. I had _made _something solid and living. Something that continued to exist outside the chamber. Even sitting in my room, where everything was solid and dreams normally faded, Demichael was _real_.

It should have been impossible but I had done it. As terrible as it was, my creatures had attacked and actually _hurt_ Draco. They could affect the environment. They were as real as the bed I sat on. It was simultaneously disturbing and compelling. It was like I had just discovered some huge scientific discovery. If I could create this, what else could I make?

Were there even limits on what I could do? If my powers stemmed directly from my imagination, there were no boundaries. Anything could come out of my head.

I was hesitant to experiment without some form of supervision, but I could play with what I already had.

"Could you bring me a shirt?" I asked the creature on my lap.

It immediately leapt off the bed a dove through the wardrobe, without opening the doors. This briefly excited me, but Demichael returned empty handed.

He apparently couldn't affect inanimate objects.

I sighed in disappointment. I supposed it wasn't right for anyone to really be on par with God in power. Being able to create life like that would have been a bit too much for a mortal being.

But it would have been nice.

It made sense anyway. My creations were based on perceptions and belief. I believed in my shadows so they were given the power to affect me. Draco believed in them so they were able to touch him. The shirt wasn't able to believe in anything so it was unaffected by the shadows. My powers were only useful against living things. So they would be no help against a rock slide or some sort of golem. But how often did that happen?

People attacked people. It would be _people_ who attacked me.

I glanced at a clock that had been set in a corner. Bella had said the meeting would be short—half an hour at most. Then she would come get me and bring me to dinner.

I fidgeted in impatience. I wanted to keep focused on something. I had achieved something today and I did not want to slip backward. But it was hard to simply wait.

Draco had brought me a book at some point. It was an anthology of wizard fairy tales—all very simple to read and full of morals without deep plots and could pass the time. I scooped it up off the bedside table and flipped it open to a random fable. I hadn't heard of any of these stories before—which was actually the reason Draco had brought it to me. He had been flabbergasted at the missing piece of my childhood and sought to rectify it.

I still felt that his lack of kindergarten outweighed my lack of British fairy tales, but he didn't believe me.

I flipped the pages idly as the clock ticked. Whatever the doctor was giving me for my stomach seemed to be working, but my eyes were still handicapped. This book had large print and many pictures which lessened the strain considerably, but the pages were still white.

A knock at the door pulled me from my reading. Expecting it to be Bella, I set the book down and rushed over to the door. I opened it not to the comforting eyes of my teacher however, but to the downcast face of Mr. Malfoy. I immediately tensed up.

He was keeping his eyes averted. This wasn't exactly strange—except for the first night when I had dinner with the Malfoys, Lucius had generally never met my eyes. Given the circumstances though, I desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head.

"Is Draco okay?" I asked when he said nothing for a good thirty seconds.

"He's fine. He'll survive." I sighed in relief. "You missed dinner though, in all the confusion, didn't you?"

That seemed like an odd thing to be thinking of when your son was probably lying in a hospital bed, but maybe it meant that Draco wasn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought he had been. "Yeah, I did. But it's okay. Bella said she would bring me something after the meeting."

"The meeting is over. Bella got held over to discuss things with the Dark Lord. I was told to bring you to dinner in her stead."

Something felt off about the way he was standing. It was as if his usually hunched shoulders were suddenly being forced down by his own will instead of shame. Whatever was different, it made me nervous. But I didn't want to be rude. I had just majorly hurt his son, after all.

"Okay." I finally said. He couldn't really hurt me after all. How bad could dinner really be?

I followed him down the hallway, closing the door carefully behind me.

We walked silently, me a few paces behind the older man. I wanted to initiate some sort of conversation but I felt too awkward to come up with something. Instead I absorbed myself in watching the way the shadows moved around me. My little legion was like some sort of black ocean waves swelling around me. It made me feel safer knowing something was around me protecting me.

I wasn't really sure where we were going. The mansion was big enough that I never went anywhere without an escort. I spent most of my time in a limited number of rooms anyway, so I did not realize until I was inside Mr. Malfoy's study that we were headed away from the dining room.

The door shut behind me and I turned suspicious eyes on Mr. Malfoy. "Are we eating in here?" I asked in confusion.

"No."

"Then why are we—" His hand jerked and something flew through the air and slammed into my stomach. I had a few seconds of shocked bewilderment before I glanced down to see the hilt of a dagger protruding from my belly.

I let out a sharp gasp of pain and slumped back against the door.

"What are you doing?" I gasped. I tried to remember what I had learned in first aide classes. Was it better to leave the knife in or pull it out? The knife would keep me from bleeding out until help got there…right? Was that right?

"What is necessary." He stepped forward and made the choice for me, jerking the knife back out of my stomach. He jerked me to the side as he did so, and I stumbled to the ground further away from the door. "Miss Nils, you have to understand. Your death will give Draco a chance to escape. The Dark Lord would have sacrificed him in the interest of expanding your fame and thereby your power."

"I wouldn't... I didn't mean for him to get hurt!" I defended myself weakly, stuffing my hand into the gush of blood and trying to stop up the hole.

"You never do. You never think anyone will get hurt. But then one and then two and then everyone you love is hurting and it's all because you wanted to do the right thing in the wrong way. It was always wrong—so very wrong. You get that, don't you?" I sort of understood what he was saying, and that most of it wasn't actually referring to me, but it was the way he said it was most alarming. He was speaking so calmly, with that odd aristocratic air that only a well-bred Britt could pull off. He even withdrew a handkerchief to wipe off some of the blood coating the knife in his hand.

I couldn't quite form coherent thoughts that could translate into proper sentences. I stayed with broken phrases mixed in with whimpers of pain. "Why? You—What?"

He never looked at me, but he seemed to know what I was asked. "I've made so many mistakes, especially where it matters most. I put my son in danger."

"I—"

"No, Miss Nils, you may not have hurt him on purpose, but he should never have been in the situation that gave you the opportunity to do so. That is my fault. I brought you here and I allowed my son to get involved. And to be honest, I have full confidence that with your help the Dark Lord will succeed. But if he wins, my son loses and I cannot allow that to happen. Do you understand now?"

I wasn't sure I did. I wasn't sure who he was blaming or what he thought was going to happen. My brain was feeling more and more foggy. "Demichael…" I whispered. The creature jumped forward, attempting to attack my assaulter. He passed right through Lucius.

My eyes widened in shock and my hopes sunk to despair. How could that have happened? How could he be immune? I looked at the door, trying to find a way to escape. They had taken my ring; I couldn't use any defensive spells. I highly doubted I would be able to run fast enough to get away.

I needed help. Demichael could not touch Lucius, but he could get Bella. "Go." I whispered. It understood my meaning and slipped through the wall. I just had to keep Lucius talking until help came. Of course…that required the mental faculties to perform speech.

"Do you know why I did not kill you immediately?"

Oh good. He would talk on his own. I shook my head vigorously.

"I wanted someone to know, even if it was only for a short time. Someone had to know. I wanted you to know why you were dying. Maybe even understand." He came closer to me, going so far as to crouch next to me. I tried to crawl backwards, but all I succeeded in doing was making my tongue bleed when I bit down to hide my cry of pain.

"It will be over soon, Rebecca." I hoped he was right, but not in that way. "Do you know that is exactly what I told my wife when the Dark Lord used this knife on her? This very knife. 'It will be over soon, Narcissa.' I told her that. And soon it will be. Likely for both of us. I will be killed for this. Narcissa is already dying. Draco may survive though, that is all that matters."

Blood was running from my tongue down my throat and I began to cough.

"Soon, Rebecca." He promised as he spun the knife between his fingers. I watched the light flicker off the blade and began to shake. "Let me tell you about this dagger. This is an ancient, sacrificial knife."

"Sacrifice?" I choked out.

He nodded. "You are a sacrifice, in a manner of speaking, but not in the way this knife was made to be used. You are a sacrifice for the better future of my child, not in the pursuit of Dark Magic. It's ironic isn't it? That the Dark Lord's greatest weapon will be struck down with such an evil instrument. It's been around for centuries you know."

I believed him. I could feel the evil emanating from the weapon. More blood than mine had been spilled by this knife, much more. There was old magic stored in it, old and evil and oozing. Lucius stopped spinning the blade. My reflection glinted back at me.

I lifted my gaze up and for the first time, my executioner met my eyes.

And suddenly I understood. I knew why Demichael had no affect on him, why he was doing this to me. He had no fear. He had overpowered his frailties with desperation and…love.

Love for Draco and for his wife had proved stronger than his fear for his life and of the Dark Lord. Love had lifted him up and made him more powerful than me.

"Truly, I apologize for bringing you into this. And for taking you back out. It is for the best."

I couldn't do anything. He was too sure, too strong. I was too lost in his eyes to even notice the knife behind rose over his head and then rush downward.

"Crucio!"

Lucius disappeared from my field of vision and his screams of pain filled my ears. Bella stood in the doorway, malice twisting every feature of her face as she poured her fury into the spell.

I tried to tell her to stop, but my mouth was full of blood and it came out in a spluttering cough.

Someone came behind her and she dropped her wand and came to me anyway. I glanced between her and Lucius as he crawled to his feet.

They both had the same defiant lack of fear. Both stemmed from some form of love. Love of family, love of a demi-god. Wasn't love supposed to be good? Didn't love conquer evil? How did evil people hold so much love? Both claimed to be right, but which was? If they had the same source why did they both conflict so much?

Lucius thought Bella was evil, representing a dark and terrible cause.

But he had tried to kill me.

What was Bella doing? Her wand was hovering over my stomach, healing it, saving my life. Wasn't that good?

Bella was holding me, switching off whispering softly in my ear and yelling at Lucius.

There was blood on everyone's hands.

Everyone was wrong.

Everyone was right.

I felt muddled, completely incapable of understanding the situation. My brain felt overloaded. I couldn't handle it. I let oblivion take over for me.

* * *

We're heading to the climax. We are nearing the bottom of the sheet of paper that represents the much ignored outline I wrote in the beginning.

I'm curious, what is everyone's take on my approach to Narcissa?

As always, review and let me know what I can improve.

Love,

-Elle


	12. Chapter 12: Allied Actions

Chapter 12: Allied Actions

* * *

Draco

* * *

I pulled the cloak tight around my shoulders as I stumbled out of the tunnel into the snow.

I knew I had to get to a shelter and warmth. It was so cold... I had no shirt on... Cold... All the warming spells I knew were temporary spurts of heat and only seemed to make the air colder once they had faded.

I could see a building up on a hill. It wasn't big, but it had walls. I could see candles through a window. Candles meant fire, and fire meant warmth.

I practically ran up the hill. I was so desperate to get out of the cold I didn't even think that an enemy might be lurking inside. Father would have been disappointed, but there was heat up there. I could die either way, but I preferred to die warm.

The front door was locked, but a simple spell fixed that. I shoved the wood out of my way and closed it tightly behind me. Not even bothering to relock the door, I ran forward.

I found myself in a church. Lines of pews led the way to a pulpit and altar. A cross stood behind the altar, a huge crucified figure of the Christ hanging from its harsh wood. A face of perpetual agony hung low, every muscle strained from the pain of that death.

"I plead sanctuary." I cynically called on the old practice as I moved past the pews. The candlelight was from the few lights still standing on the altar. Light shown from underneath a door at the side—probably the priest's home or study.

I did not want to meet the holy man so I trod as quietly as I could across the wooden floor.

There were no great stained windows, but various scenes of Christ's life hung as still paintings in the alcoves.

I reached the sacrament table. There was a stack of white table cloths sitting on a shelf under the table. I dragged one off the pile and wrapped it around my body. I was so tired, I simply propped my head on the others and huddled into a shivering ball on the ground.

* * *

Adam

* * *

I was strong. I really was. But sometimes even the strongest man needs a little extra support. I needed some spiritual guidance. I didn't know what was happening to my sister. I wanted to believe she was fine, that she was keeping herself strong. I was sure she was. But even so, my baby sister was still in the clutches of some evil man who was doing who knew what to her.

I could still remember her following me around when we were younger. Big blue eyes and a bouncing blonde pony tail—never pigtails. They were too girly for her.

I could still remember the way she cried when her blanket was taken away or mom wouldn't let her suck on her thumb. It was impossible to think of her as a villain. It just did not compute.

The reports we were getting were alarming, but I held onto my hope.

There was nothing I could physically do to help her though. That was the worst part. I like working with my hands. I was a caster, but in a pinch I would always use my hands instead of a spell. I like _action_. I like the feel of _doing _something. But in this situation, there was no action I could take for her. I was feeling stifled inside that house. So I asked Arthur Weasley if he could bring me to a local church where I could get outside that house and reset my spiritual clock.

He had agreed to bring just me to the chapel. The other members of the order had protested—as Becky's brother I could be a target and I was safer inside. They were also wary that I might be as volatile as Nikki and just hadn't shown it yet. He waved them away though. We would just go early in the morning, before the actual service and be back by lunch, no harm done.

"Molly and I used to go here every Sunday, but when the twins came it was just too much of a hassle." Arthur told me as we walked through the snow towards the old church. I hated snow. Always have. It was bright and sparkly and drove my eyes crazy. A thick blanket covered everything I could see. I pulled my hat further down over my eyes to block out the reflection of the sun off the white flakes of evil.

"My parents had a rough time keeping me in church when I was younger. I wasn't the best behaved child." I answered with a laugh. I felt better being outside, even if it was in terrible conditions.

Arthur laughed with me. I liked the Weasley patriarch. He was a good-natured, quirky character. He lived in serious times but inside all he wanted to do was play.

We reached the church door and found it unlocked. The pastor wasn't immediately in view, but I could hear some boxes being shuffled around in a room branching off to the side. Arthur went to go see if it was the pastor and left me to pray in private.

I walked between the pews and was grateful for the empty state of the church.

I had never really been the conventional church attendee. With my wild mane of hair and dark glasses people were generally a bit unnerved by me. Between my glasses and the hat, no one could see my eyes—which is unnerving enough for some people, but add in a six foot, very bulky body and a heavy beard and you had a public menace.

Once people got to know me they generally calmed down, but the initial hard stares were always difficult to take. It was nice to just worship without other people around.

I reached the front of the chapel where a large pulpit sat with an open King James Bible on top. A sacrament table sat on the side with a white sheet covering. I was about to take a seat in one of the first pews when I noticed a leg sticking out from under the table cloth.

Worried it was the pastor; I knelt down next to the table and lifted the white covering off.

A boy around Becky's age was curled up with some other table cloths. A dark cloak was wrapped around his body, but a scruffy brown head poked out the top.

Arthur was still in the back with the Pastor, but I didn't want to leave him there. I reached out and gently shook the boy's shoulder. "Hey man, you're going to have to wake up soon."

He jerked awake abruptly, pushing himself up with one arm and swinging a wand around with the other. His head clonked against the table as he rose and he crouched back down with a groan.

"Damn it." He hissed, clutching at his head with his wand hand.

I decided against scolding him for swearing in a church. Mostly because the cloak fell from his shoulders and I saw that instead of a shirt he wore a thick covering of bloody bandages. His face and bare arms were a mess of deep cuts and lesser scratches. Something bad had happened to this kid. I would have sworn too, in his place.

"Whoa, easy there." I cautioned.

The wand came at my face again as the kid glared at me. "Who are you?" He demanded.

I put my hands up in surrender and backed up. He quickly clambered to his feet, keeping his wand trained on me. He left bloody stains on the white sheets behind him.

"Relax. I don't want to fight you. I want to help you." I spoke in a slow, calm voice. "You look pretty messed up, I can help you."

He had hard grey eyes that refused to be soothed. "Tell me your damn name!" He half-yelled, waving the wand threateningly.

Wands always struck me as silly looking. It was a little kid's toy, not a real weapon. Unfortunately, my line of work was too hazardous to keep a ring like Becky or Nikki. Instead, I kept a necklace that I could tuck under my shirt to keep safe. It was harder to concentrate on a tool of power that wasn't based in the hand, but it served its purpose for me.

It also meant that it was hidden from the boy in front of me. If it came down to a fight he would think I was unarmed. I was also much bigger than him, which meant that I could probably stop him without magical assistance anyway.

"Adam." I answered him. "My name is Adam. What's yours?"

"What's your last name?"

I tried to gauge just how strong he was. He had a lean body, not overtly muscled, but capable. He was built more like my younger brother, for speed, not brute strength. My eyes traveled over his arms and rested briefly on a tattoo on his left arm.

I felt a chill run down my spine as I recognized the skull and snake insignia. Talks with the Order of the Phoenix members had brought me up to speed on the political events of this country. _Death Eaters_. The people who had taken my sister.

Without another thought, I knocked aside his wand with my hand and tackled the boy to the ground. I trapped his left arm underneath one knee and held the other at bay with one hand. My other arm I pulled back and held in a tensed position—ready to punch him if I needed too.

I had caught him off guard and he didn't struggle until it was too late. I know how to throw my weight around when I need to, and a considerable amount of it was pressing on his chest and stomach.

"Get…off of me…" He gasped in a pained growl. He was probably bleeding again, but I didn't care. He was part of the group that had my sister—he deserved a little pain.

"Who are you?" It was my turn to do the demanding. "Where is my sister?"

Pain and confusion clouded his eyes and he shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know your sister."

"Don't give me that crap." I pressed harder into his stomache and he gasped. "You're a part of that bastard organization that took my sister." I pointed at his tattoo. "You're going to tell me where she is."

He glanced at his arm and grimaced. "I don't know…who…"

"Rebecca!" I told him angrily. "Her name is Rebecca!"

His eyes widened in recognition, and then I felt his entire body slump beneath me in defeat. "You're Adam Nils." He whispered sadly. I nodded. "I…I know your sister. I…I want to help her. Let me up. Please. I can help you."

I didn't want to let him up. I wanted to hit him. I didn't move.

"Please don't hurt me. Your sister already beat me up." He tried to reason with me. "She did all this."

I glanced at the blood seeping up through the bandages and then smirked. Good girl. "Give me your wand."

He dropped it and I quickly snatched up the stick. "Who are you? Why did Becky attack you?"

The boy had to spend a moment trying to get enough air to talk. I eased up a bit. "Draco. Draco Malfoy. And it was an accident really, she didn't mean to. She was doing an exercise and I…got in the way."

I remembered Malfoy being a prominent death eater name. That was the name of the family that lived in the place they had kept my sister. My fist clenched. "Exercise?"

Draco nodded. "They're training her to control her powers. And sort of brainwashing her in the process."

A trickle of blood slid out from under the bandages and trailed past his belly button. I figured that meant either Becky wasn't gaining much control or she had learned too much.

"So why are you here?"

Draco hesitated before answering. "My father kicked me out. I'm not sure if he decided I was too useless or if he was trying to protect me."

He seemed sincere, but this _was_ a death eater I was speaking to.

"I know things about her, how she works and thinks. I know what she's capable of. Once the Dark Lord convinces her to help him, we're all going to lose. Potter doesn't stand a chance against her. I can help you! I can help you get to her and get her out of there!"

He was talking fast, trying to convince me not to hurt him. He wanted me to think he was useful—too useful for me to beat up. I wasn't buying into it yet.

"Why would you help us?" I asked.

"Because it's right. Because what they're doing to her is wrong. I don't want to be a coward anymore. I want to help her." A hopeless look took over his expression. He didn't think I would ever believe him. He was probably right. "Please! You have to believe me! You're her brother! You know how she is! They'll destroy her, just like they destroy everything else!"

"Did they destroy you?"

It was a poignant question and it took him off guard. But eventually his features settled into a determined glare.

"Not yet."

In another situation, that statement might have put him on my good list. As it was, it simply made me more capable of believing him.

I had one final question. "Why should I trust you?"

There was no hesitation this time. "Because she needs you to."

That was true enough for me. I got off and warily watched him get to his feet. Once he was standing I glanced around for Arthur. He was still in the back. I would have to bring the kid and go looking for him. But first, there was something I had to do.

"Hey, Draco?"

He looked up just in time for my fist to smash into his eye.

He stumbled backward and hit the ground hard. He was dazed, but not unconscious. Good. I put his wand in the inside pocket of my jacket and zipped it up. Then I grabbed the boy by the collar of his cloak and hauled him to his feet.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco demanded, covering his rapidly swelling face with one hand.

"You deserved it. Don't pretend you didn't." I dragged him towards the back room. "Your people kidnapped my sister. I needed to punch someone. You're the closest candidate."

He really couldn't argue.

I found Arthur fairly quickly. He had a little trouble identifying Draco under his newly blackened eye and all the blood, but he recognized the name and such well enough. He was shocked and alarmed to find the Malfoy heir in my grasp, but handled it pretty well.

We left the church quickly enough. Arthur wasn't sure if it was safe to bring Draco to headquarters, so he left us in the Burrow (his house) and went to get permission. I wasn't sure if he was too scared to talk or if I had given him a concussion, but either way he stayed pretty quiet until Arthur came back with earplugs and a blindfold.

The reception back at headquarters was varied. Most of the Order was out for the day and would not return for several hours. Harry and Ron were out with Moody, but Hermione was there and greeted Draco with a silent, hating glance. Ginny was considerably more vocal in her hatred.

Remus, while not entirely friendly, was calmer and offered to help the kid change his bandages and fix his hair color. No one seemed to want to actually _heal_ Draco, but Molly was willing to help lessen the swelling on his eye and provide him with an actual shirt.

Professor Zinnober was still working on his alchemical thing, but promised to come later.

I stayed with him the whole time. He had information about my sister and I wasn't about to let him off lightly. I also wanted to make sure no one decided to hurt him. As far as I was concerned, Draco was my prisoner and I reserved the right to beat him.

Eventually, Molly went off to make lunch and Ginny went with Remus to escort Nikki from her containment.

"Are you supposed to be my babysitter?" I was surprised when he spoke. He had demonstrated an excellent ability to be stoic and silent while the others were in the room.

"I prefer the term 'domestic caretaker'." I responded smartly.

His glare was priceless. He shifted in his chair, fiddling with the hem of the worn shirt he was borrowing. I don't think he appreciated my wit. "You know, you don't look much like your sister."

I smiled wryly. He hadn't actually seen much of my face considering it was covered with dark glasses and a beard, but it was true anyway. "Yeah. I've got deeper dimples."

The confusion that bought me was awesome.

"Are you making fun of me?" He asked angrily. "I don't appreciate it."

Poor boy needed to learn to take a joke, especially when times were tough. He wouldn't last very long in my family. I shook my head. "No, really. I do have deeper dimples than Becky."

He sputtered for a bit as he tried to come up with something intelligent to knock me, but I guess he didn't quite have the background to come up with an adequate reply. Becky should have taught him better. When she was back, I would have to scold her for failing in her duties.

Draco gave up on my sanity and went back to his silent brooding.

I sighed and decided to take pity on him. He was supposedly trying to help me after all.

"Hey, look. I get the feeling everyone here is pretty hostile against you. But if you can help me save my sister, I won't let them hurt you. How's that?"

He gave me a disbelieving look. "Sorry, but you gave me a black eye like, an hour ago. I have a tough time trusting you."

This was understandable. Perhaps I had acted rashly in punching him. I shrugged. "Don't be a baby. You're fine. Becky isn't though, and if you want to help her then we're going to work together on this."

A wary glance was my only response. I certainly was not about to apologize, but I could sympathize.

"Look, I promise I won't hit you again unless you absolutely deserve it. I need you and you need me and Becky needs both of us. That's what matters." His first reaction to me stretching out my hand was to flinch. But then he sighed and gripped it tightly.

"What's with the bromance?" A sharp feminine voice spoke behind me. Draco immediately tensed up and instinctively reached for a wand that wasn't there.

"Relax, it's just Nikki. Hey Crazy." I turned my head as my blonde compatriot flounced into the dining room, Remus right behind.

"'sup Adam?"

"Just having a chat with our new friend. Nikki, meet Draco. Draco, this is Nikki Peggan."

Nikki's eyes critically took in Draco's scruffy appearance. His borrowed shirt covered his bandages, but his face was still a mess. Besides his black eye, he still had the myriad of scratches across his cheeks. His hair was unkempt and sticking out in odd directions. The poor boy was in some sort of dress slacks that did not match his riding boots. I wondered what Nikki thought of him.

Draco was sizing up Nikki just as critically. But he wasn't giving her the challenging, defiant look he had given every other person who had walked through the dining room. Instead, he was just curious.

That was interesting.

Whatever Draco thought, Nikki found him disappointing. "Great. Another person who does nothing. Is this what you brought me down here for?" I realized she probably thought he was another member of the Order who had just been out in the field. I would enjoy telling her otherwise.

Remus shook his head. "It's almost lunch time."

She hmph'd and took a seat close enough to Draco and I that she could glare effectively, but far enough away that she couldn't be considered sitting with him.

The werewolf went into the kitchen to see if he could help Molly at all, leaving the three of us alone.

"What happened to your face?" Nikki asked bluntly. "You look like a rabid bear chewed you up and spat you out."

I rolled my eyes at her rudeness but Draco found it impossibly amusing, even going so far as to smile.

"Not a bear. An army of hideous shadow creatures. Except for this," He pointed at his eye. "Which I can thank Adam here for."

Nikki's eyebrows rose and she transferred her glare to me. "Adam! You told me I couldn't punch anyone! You freaking hypocrite!"

Ordinarily this would have made me laugh. It was pretty funny, but I still felt justified in my actions. I was about to say so when Draco beat me to it.

"I don't have a sibling, but if I did have a sister and she had been kidnapped I would probably have hit anyone in connection with those that hurt her too." He was being pretty bold. I wondered what his aim was.

Suspicious now, Nikki turned her full attention to the prisoner. "Who are you, again?"

"Draco Malfoy." He extended his left arm so she could see the Dark Mark. "You know, you are exactly like Rebecca described you."

She recognized the last name and the mark. She hardly needed any other encouragement, but the insinuation that he knew Becky was too much for her. Nikki stood up and thrust her hand forward; growling some curse before remembering her ring had been taken away. Lacking magic, I was afraid she might leap across the table and tackle him. I moved fast, jumping around the table and grabbing her shoulders.

"Nikki! Relax; he's going to help us get her back!"

"I'll kill him!"

"No, Nikki!"

I expected Draco to flee, but he sat calmly in his chair. "I'm here to help you."

"Go to hell!" Nikki shrieked.

The boy flinched and then nodded. "Yeah. I don't see how I could end up anywhere else. But not now. Now, we need to save Rebecca."

"What do you care about Becky!?"

Draco responded carefully, but sincerely. "I care that she is a good person who is being destroyed and I don't want to live in a world where that happens. I care that it is the right thing."

"He's our best hope, Nikki." I added. "He knows things. Things we need to know."

Nikki gradually stopped struggling. She was quiet and subdued as she asked, "You're really going to help us?"

He nodded vigorously.

"I'm going to kill you once this is over." She warned darkly as she flipped back to an attitude she was more comfortable in.

He agreed. "Just set the date."

"Sooner if you betray us."

"Sounds perfect."

The girl wavered for just a moment more before nodding her acceptance. I released my hold on her shoulders and went back to my seat.

I had just settled back down when Harry Potter walked in and I had to prepare to restrain Nikki again. Most of the absent Order was funneling in behind him, ready for both lunch and the emergency meeting. The chosen one stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Draco.

"Malfoy?" He asked in a combination of shock and anger. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Hermione and Ron came to stand near him. Ginny trailed into the dining room after them. It was like people were gathering for some kind of show down. I would have to prevent that.

"He's here to help, which is more than we can say for _you_." Nikki retorted derisively. She moved purposefully to stand next to Draco's chair and draped an arm across his shoulders. She had jumped from threatening his life to defending it in an instant. Probably because she approved of anything that got on Harry Potter's nerves that quickly.

"Nikki, you don't know what he's like." Ginny interjected, looking pained at having to agree with her ex-boyfriend.

But she just shrugged. "I don't care what he's like. He's going to help Becky and that's what matters."

"I don't believe this!" Harry threw his hands in the air in frustration. I felt sorry for him. None of this was really his fault. He had a lot of pressure on his shoulders that he didn't really deserve.

"Just hear me out, Potter." Draco was obviously making a huge effort to be civil. "You're always preaching about goodness and all that. Extend some of that goodness to me. I'm here to help."

"Like we're going to believe that!" Ron growled. "Somebody get this git out of here!"

"Funny, I was just thinking that about you." Nikki replied contemptuously.

I decided to intervene before we had a full-scale brawl. "Everyone take your voices down a couple decibels and calm down. Let's eat some lunch and then discuss it like adults. I brought Draco here because he said he'll help my sister. He's here as _my_ prisoner and he's under _my_ protection. So all of you back off and go eat lunch."

Ginny, recovering from her brief moment of unity with Potter, flounced over to sit next to me. Not next to Draco, she couldn't ignore her actual hatred of him _that_ much, but it was a sign that she would back me up. I appreciated the gesture, even if the motivation was really just to be independent from the golden trio.

Her brother looked furious. "Ginny!"

Harry put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. The youngest Weasley practically owned that boy and didn't even realize it. He wasn't going to fight her if he didn't have to.

"We'll listen." The golden boy declared softly, defeat slumping his shoulders down. "After we've eaten. Come on, Ron. Let's help your mom with the food."

He pulled his friends into the kitchen. He was a good kid underneath all the stuff he goes through. A bit intense in some areas, but he had a good heart. Nikki wouldn't believe it, but I knew that Harry truly just wanted to help.

It occurred to me that Draco was a bit of a foil for Harry. They wanted to do the right thing, but struggled to get there.

Nikki took a seat next to Draco, completely forgetting her death threats from before, and began talking to Ginny. Other Order members took seats or went into the kitchen to help out.

I listened to the conversations going on around me but chose not to join in. They were all ignoring the elephant in the room until the meeting actually started.

Draco met my gaze and I knew he and I were on the same wavelength.

But they couldn't ignore him for long. There was really only one outcome we would allow for this meeting. Sooner or later, elephants have to be dealt with. And now that one had entered Headquarters, it was time to act.

* * *

So not much actually happened, but it was necessary to set up the end. And I wanted Adam to have some spotlight time. Poor boy is neglected. Some parts were a little rushed. I hope Adam's persona came across okay though. He's supposed to be a insightful and capable, but often overlooked guy.

Happy New Year!

I actually started this a year and a week ago. I feel accomplished.

As always, review and help me improve.

Love,

Elle


End file.
